November 2014: 50 months (4 years and two month old)

Dear Patrick,

• You came into our home office after your bath on 11/3 and asked what I was doing.  “I’m typing a few notes about you,” I said and explained that Dad and I like to remember things about you that we share with the family. “Tell the people that I like to snuggle with my mom,” you instructed.  So here you have it, people.
• Occasionally you will say things like, “Pretend I’m eight years old and I’ve lost two teeth.” If you are wondering how one plays along, you basically say something like, “Hello eight year old Patrick - it looks like you lost two teeth.”  And that the extent of the game. 
• NPR words this month - you asked about: “Washington,” “blades” and “Obama.”
• We attended your Thanksgiving Day program at school where you sang songs with the other kids on stage, showed your belly and - when it was your turn with the microphone - told the audience that you were thankful for “pie.” Earlier that morning at the doctor's office, you had been diagnosed with an ear infection so you would interrupt the program (mostly between songs) to find me on the front row of the chapel and ask when you could take your medicine. “Now, Mama?”  “No, baby,” I’d say in a loud whisper, “not now - keep singing.”
• I love how you walk so carefully with scissors - just like we taught you: very deliberately, two hands, the tool outstretched like it was a trophy - very slowly and with such focus. 
• Your father went to New York with your uncles Jono and Sonny, and I went to Los Angeles this month for work -- so its been the month of travel.  
• Together we traveled to Macon for Thanksgiving Thursday through Sunday at the end of the month. Dinner at Natalia’s, shopping, Omi and I worked on Michael’s house and we got Payton, the babysitter, for you so that your Dad could relax a bit too. Oh, its nice to see you so happy at Omi and Pop’s house. One of my favorite moments was leaving the Hope’s pizza party Saturday night and the whole group of adults (most of them strangers to you earlier that evening) all stopping their conversations to wave as you shouted “Good-bye Everybody!” at the top of your lungs. It was like that scene from The Sound of Music when the Von Trapp kids go to bed and the entire party sings goodnight to them. You are a charmer, my boy, loved by everyone who meets you.

October 2014: 49 months (4 years and one month old)

Dear Patrick,

• On Wednesday 10/1, I took a video (of the video monitor in our room actually) of you talking in bed before sleep. You do this often and we love it. I wanted to get some of it on film so you could one day hear yourself - you are just so creative and funny. This particular night you were a pirate and eagle was your first mate. Speaking of “your guys” we seem to have lost Elephant - that rascal - but hope he will turn up soon.
• I took a picture of you that will appear in a print ad for Greenville running in four magazines next month.
• When making coffee you said of the milk frother and Nespresso that, “these machines are friends - they work well together.”
• Your uncle Jono came to town Thursday 10/2 and then again on Saturday 10/4, and you loved it!  “Let’s fight,” you’d say when asking your uncle to wrestle on the bed or couch. This was also the first time in history that you asked for someone other than your parents to read you a book before bed (with us here!). And when you woke in the morning, you went straight to Jono’s room to snuggle and tell stories. We let you be late to school that Friday - just so you could have some extra time together.
• You have so many bumps and bruises this month it’s almost alarming. And the fact that you and Rivers decided to slide your foreheads across the carpet at school resulting in a serious rug-burn, doesn’t help.
• We shared a babysitter with the Satterfields on Saturday 10/11 so that you, Sylvie and Maeve could stay home and play while all the parents went to Fall for Greenville, and it was a huge success!  You wanted to sleep in “your room” (the guest room with us on a mattress on the floor), which Sylvie didn’t like because she wanted you to sleep with her but eventually she accepted, and it all went smoothly according to the sitter. You did talk in your sleep - the first time I’ve ever heard you do that and it was so funny! You shouted, “Rock and Roll” in the pitch black middle of the night, which made me laugh and your Dad very proud. 
• You ate a turkey sandwich with lettuce and mayo for the first time on Sunday 10/12. You helped your Dad make it, and then decided to eat it. Hooray for additional food options!
• After putting you to bed the evening of 10/15, I found Duckie in the living room and since I knew you were still awake because I could hear you talking in your room, I decide to bring Duckie to you. There you were: sitting straight up, back against your pillow with the blanket drawn and a book wide open on your lap. “I’m reading to my guys,” you told me. It was dark, but your style of reading doesn’t actually require seeing the words. Since then, you’ve read a book to your guys almost every night.
• You are very agreeable. If you ask to do something and we need to modify your request slightly to make it acceptable (like no to ice cream for breakfast, but how bout we do that later tonight after dinner) - you almost always go along. I don’t know if all children are this “easy” but you seem to be very open to compromise. “Okay!” you say with enthusiasm as if it was your idea.
• When I sit at the dining room table, you like to pretend that I’m a slide and you climb up my back and into my lap in order to slide down my legs to the floor.  It works particularly well when we are both in PJs, and you want to do it over and over again.
• Pumpkin carving was really exciting this year with you - you looked forward to lighting both pumpkins on the porch.
• We treated you to a lemon icy from the artisan cart nearby Roost Friday 10/24 after you finished your dinner. Since we were sitting outside and had a view of the large plaza area from our table, we allowed you to venture alone and thank them. You ran down the restaurant steps and around the fountain, and when you got to the guys, we watched you give them both a high-five.  Then you just hung out for a while talking like you were old friends.
• I had my kidney stone surgery this month and Omi came to Greenville, which was a HUGE help in more ways than I can ever type!  During her time, she told this one story of taking you to TJMaxx where in the process of purchasing a very cool “Crane Truck” the cashier talked about being tired and working late that night. Then apparently as you and Omi were walking away, you stopped, turned around and yelled back to the woman behind the counter, “I hope you sleep well.” Yep, that's my boy - always listening, always aware and always thinking of others.
• I heard you tell your father, “Let’s watch the guys on TV cook something - like shrimp. I like shrimp.” Your Dad asked, “Have you ever had shrimp?” “No,” you answered, “but I know I like it.”
• Gangie made you the proud owner of a big Bumble Transformer, which you LOVE. He is a legit member of the family eating dinner with us and reading your new Highlights Magazine that came this month from Aunt Jen and Uncle Jono.
• The entire bowl of Halloween candy was stolen from our front porch this year. Later that evening when some other kids came by our house asking for candy, you offered YOURS and held out your hard earned bucket to share!  You volunteered to give strangers your candy. You have a very sweet heart, Patrick.  

September 2014: 4 years old

Patrick, my sweet four year old...

• There are two freckles on your right leg. You named one dot “Fred” and the other dot “Freckle.” 
• You have adopted River’s “night-night” way of tracking time. You still have no real concept of “today” or “tomorrow,” but we do seem to be making progress on the days of the week.  I have explained that breakfast is in the morning and lunch in the afternoon and dinner at night (so many times!) and you still confuse meals.
• Sometimes you blame your body parts to deflect attention from yourself. “Hand did it,” you’ll explain to me, as if your hand isn’t attached or a part of you at all.
• You sing a little song to your father that makes him laugh. The tune is nothing I can type - just a soft, quiet “do-do, do, do, do-do…” (I hope I don’t forget it...!)
• You are allowed to pick a book to read before nap, but lately you’ve been prone to changing your mind. So I explained to you one day that words have real meaning and that you should think very carefully before you talk. After a lot of back in forth, I told you that it was time choose: you could pick this book to read, which was in my hand, or nothing. Without a moment of hesitation you declared, “Nothing!” That meant, of course, you were going to bed without reading and upon that realization, you became upset. “Patrick, you take a moment to collect yourself,” I told you calmly and walked out of your room. (It didn’t matter to me if you were angry or asleep over nap time as long as you were in your room.) But I wasn’t gone more than 2 mins when you called out, “Mama, I’ve collected myself now.”  And then you asked to read the book.  “No,” I said. “You made that decision already.  Remember - words have meaning.” You sighed heavily and climbed into bed. With your head on the pillow, not even looking at me, you said very thoughtfully - almost to yourself, “Mama...sometime I talk before I think, but I’m working on that. I’m really working on that.” (In the dark, I could have been talking to a forty year old man.) After kissing you goodnight, I called your Dad and Pop right away to tell them about this exchange. You are wise beyond your years.
• You love mint chocolate chip ice cream.  You eat a small bowl every night as we watch Curious George before bed.
• You pretend the metal steamer is a spaceship and fly it around the house.  One afternoon, you said “Oh, its too small - I can’t fit in there.”  So I told you to just pretend you were small enough to be inside the spaceship strainer, to which you replied, “I can’t, Mama. I left my imagination at school.”
• You love learning about inside the body - you ask to see pictures of bones and blood cells and germs. I brought you home a medical illustration book from the office and you poured over it, muttering “oooh” and “that’s complicated” to yourself.
• Around 11:00pm on the evening of 9/11 when you should’ve been sleeping, I heard you cry softly over the monitor.  I went into your room to check on you and your cheeks were wet with tears. I asked you what was wrong. “I can’t...I can’t...I can’t control my blood” you told me with such sadness. Trying not to laugh, I explained that the wonderful thing about our heart is that it is so smart and it controls and moves our blood inside our body all by itself. It seemed to reassure you enough to go back to sleep.  
• On the morning of Wednesday 9/17 as I was dropping you off at school, your teacher Mrs Betsy told me that you listen very well.  She offered this observation all on her own, and said we must work with you at home.  Betsy said that sometimes none of the other kids in the class look up (much less make eye contact) when she talks, but you do regularly.  Listening - true focused listening - is a really important skill to have, and I’m very happy that we can help you practice now. I hope you will have an easier time understanding, comprehending, following through when you are older -- not to mention making the people you’re talking to feel heard, which is a gift in itself. I’m proud of you.
• Your fourth birthday was defined by Home Depot, your own personal P-Byrd logo and a transformer costume that you only take off long enough to cool down, and then ask for help becoming “Bumblebee” again.

All my love, sweet Bumblebee.

August 2014: 47 months (3 years and 11 months old)

Dear Patrick,

• Your dad texted me on 8/6 as he was driving you to school and said, “Did I tell you that Patrick likes to listen to Rush?  He wants to listen to loud rock n’ roll in the car, and so far his favorite is the song Limelight.”  Then he added in a separate text a moment later, “Patrick is now playing air drums.”  
• Oh, the dawdle!  You move at a very deliberate, purposeful pace, which I actually find charming -- if it isn’t raining.  I love that you have not yet mastered the (adult) way of doing two things at once. You can’t tell a story and put your shoes on at the same time, for example.  We do one thing and then the other, and its nice to slow down with you for a moment, and mindfully focus on the task at hand.
• “I’ll race you to the front door,” your dad says most mornings to get you moving, and guess who wins every time?!
• I told you that you were creative on 8/13 and you asked what “creative” meant, which is harder than you think to explain to an almost four year old, but I did as best I could… and then you said, “Ok, but let’s pretend that ‘creative’ means ‘popsicle’.” Afraid I confused you or wasn't clear - I insisted on the correct definition. “But, Mom, just pretend that creative is popsicle.” And all at once it hit me: creative IS popsicle, you brilliant boy.   
• I have tried to define a lot of words and concepts this month at your request.  (Some clarifications you accept and others you ignore, preferring to believe your own version of the truth - like an anglerfish, for example, lives in a tree, or a cup is actually a lunchbox.)  You get a lot of your words and questions in the car - from song lyrics (with your Dad) and NPR radio with me. Some of my favorites to explain this month: portfolio, philanthropy, gilded, barrier and control.  
• You observed one day as we crossed a parking lot together that, “I hold your hand, but I can only hold Dad’s finger.”
• Your blue light-up shoes from Omi and Pop are a big deal this month. They make you really fast and you show them to everyone you meet.
• You found a big stick in the yard that you call your “magic megaphone.”
• Someone (undoubtedly a very Southern someone) taught you the phrase, “You get what you get, and you don’t pitch a fit.”  Amazingly, this comes in handy - like the time I gave you one tic-tac instead of two and instead of getting upset you repeated this little phrase to yourself.  Thank you Southern Someone.
• “I’m gonna make a good idea…” you will say when you propose something in your favor.
• You will ask: “Can I [insert activity that you want to do] - yes or no.” Its more of a statement than a question.  You want your parents to be decisive.
• You explained to me how kissing works by tilting your head to the side (an exaggerated, awkward, almost parallel to the floor move) because “that's how the prince does it.”
• “I’m playing a lullaby for the sun to go to sleep so Mom can rest,” I heard you tell your dad the afternoon of 8/17 as you banged away on the piano outside our bedroom.
• The other morning as I was getting ready for work, I realized that you would be waking up any moment and running into our room. The anticipation of seeing you, made me so happy.  (This is not to say that I don't cherish those occasional sleepovers at your grandparents, of course.)  But I love to see my boy every moment of every day!  And I thought you should know the sense of true happiness you bring everywhere you go.
• You tell great (albeit sometimes silly) stories.  I recorded this one, which made us laugh: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=axqVTZCgKQ8&list=UUt2b8i2L3JBRe9axn5qIyng

July 2014: 46 months (3 years and 10 months old)

Dear Patrick,

• When asked what your father does for a living, you said this month that he is a “warrior,” which I have to admit does sound a lot like “lawyer.”  And, as you point out, he does fight bad guys.
• You play a great game of “Shopkeeper” in which you sell-off most every item in our home within eyesight. The good news is that your prices are fair - usually no more than “ten monies.”
• In an interesting comparison, you told me that “a yawn is a toot from your mouth.”
• As we played with chalk on the driveway one hot Saturday afternoon, you said to me: “I’ll draw a cross and you draw Jesus dying on there.”  Trying not to react negatively, I drew a sleeping Jesus stick figure -- and then I also quickly drew some butterflies and rainbows and other happy stuff to counterbalance the requested morbid scene of death.  
• You have two firetrucks and you call one “Hank” and the other “Frank.” You race these around the house by putting one hand flat on the top of each toy.  Then, leaning with all your weight against the plastic, you bend at the waist and run.  When you ask us to “talk trucks,” (this firetruck race game) you insist that we contort ourselves in the same manner - otherwise its not “playing right.”  Of course, I never really know if I’m Hank or Frank, so I already know that I’m not playing right on multiple levels.
• You would like to be Spiderman and or Ironman when you grow up.
• Your father and I went to Italy for eight days with Omi, Pop and Bunky for Lisa and Camiel Schijvens wedding, which was amazing and beautiful.  Storybook really.  You stayed with Big Mitchell & Gangie, who installed a playground, sandbox and a pool in their backyard just for you.  Such a lucky boy!
• Your father would not let you change the television channel from his show to yours, and apparently you got mad and informed him that you were “telling mom.” “Go ahead and tell her,” your dad said to you, knowing that although its hard to resist your tear streaked cheeks, I agree 100% with your father. I’ve got his back always. Plus, the cooking show is just so much better than “Turbo” the snail.
• On Friday 7/18 you woke up crying because you had peed yourself awake (which rarely happens) and then two hours later you woke up crying because your legs were asleep and “filled with tingles.”  Rough night.
• I gave you a kiss before you left for school the morning of 7/17 and you said, “thats like our wedding.”

June 2014: 45 months (3 years and 9 months old)

Dear Patrick,

• We made an outdoor waterbed (jello-like) kiddie pool for you using plastic sheeting and duct-tape, and it was a big success.  This is one of those things that I now want to make every weekend - as much for me as for you. 
• This month you have been a bit consumed with the idea of storms. You don’t like thunder or the threat of possible thunder. You’ve asked me a couple of times about the forecast and the percent chance of rain.  And even though the number means nothing to you, we still look it up together on my iphone.  Your father has referred to bad weather as “sky music” and describes thunder as a “big friend” who just happens to have a loud, deep voice calling, “Patrick come play” or maybe, he said, that was just a toot, trying to make you laugh.  
• On Tuesday morning 6/3, while you ate your breakfast, your dad said, "Hi little mouse. Do you like your cheese?" You looked up at him and replied deadpan: "Dad, I'm not a mouse. I'm just Patrick eating cheese."  
• Bubble wrap entertains for a good 30 mins. One pop at a time, and then the realization that you could put it on the floor do an entire “bubble dance” with your feet. Awesome.
• You picked out a Robot card to give your dad for his birthday, and you and I made cupcakes (yellow cake with chocolate icing), which you decorated with colorful sprinkles.
• “We’ll sing two songs: 'Down at the Station' and 'Itsy Bitsy Spider.'  First, Down at the Station.”  You have said these exact words every night at bedtime for a very long time, so this is nothing “new” this month, but appreciating the norm is special in itself.   
• Out of the blue on Wednesday evening 6/11, you announced that you would no longer like to wear pull-ups to bed.  You came up with this plan all on your own and explained to us that you could simply get out of bed at night and take yourself to the potty.  (So simple folks.)  Still a little doubtful - we practiced in the daytime, turning off the light and you showing us how you would do it.  Then that night you did.  And only one minor accident later, that was that - diapers are a total thing of the past.
• Its not worth explaining how the phrase “shit show” was expressed in your presence, only that you repeated it back and with gusto. Your father and I tried very hard not to laugh.
• You took a wonderful trip to the beach with your dad, Sonny & Katie, Susie, Sal, Kevin & Allison, Grace, Sharon, Michael & Tory:
• You yelling “white squall” at the waves (like Uncle Sonny taught you).
• You telling your dad that you were going to use your metal detector to find crabs. Your dad asked, "Are crabs made of metal?"  And apparently you replied, "No Dad - they are made of sand. They are sand crabs."
• You making a 1.5 mile walk to the pier - just you, your father and your uncle Sonny.  “Just a couple of dudes, enjoying each others' company,” Sonny said. And then another morning you got up early with Aunt Katie and the two of you enjoyed a sunrise, for which is depicted in this month’s photo. 
• You getting use to a full house of people at the beach and asking, “Where’s all my parents?!!” to an empty living room one day when it was just your father alone on the couch.
• You “flirting” with the women at the beach; apparently a 'future ladies killer,' according to your uncle Sonny.
• You being perfectly happy in a restaurant that was understaffed and kept the family waiting more than two hours for cold food.
• Then at the end of this month, I realized that there is nothing better than getting off the plane from Mexico (visiting Michael for a long weekend with Omi) and hearing, “Mama!” Oh, your little voice! You ran to me with both arms outstretched; a crowd of people parting to let you through; their awwwws surrounding me as I dropped to my knees only focused on my boy; you tan from the pool earlier that day with your dad, and smelling of sun screen, chlorine, sunshine... You are so beautiful.

May 2014: 44 months (3 years and 8 months old)

Dear Patrick,
This month

• You call the game Angry Birds, “Pig Shots.”
• I’m not sure how you came up with this, but you call one of your toy cars a “Madagascar Car.” So I guess its from Africa...?
• While doing the laundry, a pile of rocks fell out of your shirt into the washer.  You had put a fist full of tiny pebbles from the playground at school into the front square pocket of your red shirt.  Lesson learned: check pockets.
• You have been changing your mind a lot lately (a form of testing, we think.) "Patrick, you can watch Peppa Pig or nothing on television. Those are your options. Oh, really? Nothing you say [with a bit of attitude]?!  Well, OK, then.  You made your choice." And off goes the TV.  Cue you changing your mind and the fit of remorseful tears that follow.  But too bad.  Growing up is tough.   
• I noticed that you have a few tiny freckles on your nose and cheek.
• One day you rubbed my back with your little hand and whispered in my ear, “that means I love you.”
• The Howells (next door) own four chickens - they actually got them last month over Easter, but you have really taken an interest this month.  You walk over to their house, and let yourself in their backyard gate to play.
• You noticed a large woman on the street on a Thursday at “Downtown Alive.” As you were walking hand-in-hand with your father, you pointed at her with your other hand and loudly exclaimed, "you're FAT!" Apparently there was no music playing and really obvious.  Your father promptly had a long talk with you about being polite and keeping some observations to yourself.  
• We’ve explained the words: detour, patience, evergreen and slope this month.  (Are these like the random items of food you buy at the grocery store that in theory explain a lot about you to the cashier?)
• We taught you “en garde” and “touche” so at least we now sword fight in style.
• We had a lot of fun at Artisphere, one of your first real music concerts! You saw Blitzen Trapper play a great show downtown at the outside amphitheater behind the Peace Center. You loved the hula hoops, dancing and running around in the crowd. Your father and I took turns following you, tag-team style.  It was a great night and one of the latest you have ever stayed up, around 10:30pm. A great Saturday in May!
• You told me that “ladies drink wine.”  Interesting observation. 
• For “password,” you say “passage word,” which I love because frankly its better.
• You and I went to Macon for Memorial Day weekend, and your highlights were: worms in the Hope’s garden, surprises (toys) from Omi & Pop on your shelf, croissants, the pool Omi made for you, Mr. Melvin, and Tom’s tractor.
• You went to the dentist for the first time and loved it.  You asked a million questions and particularly liked “Mr. Thirsty,” the pirate glasses Dr. Kenna wore, and the bubble gum flavor toothpaste. The doc couldn’t believe how happy you were in his office - he scraped, polished, flossed and gave you a fluoride rinse.  “This kid should maybe think about dental school,” he told me.
• You asked, "Mom, what does Yoda do?"