Bubba, Lovebug, my handsome little man...5, are you for real? I told you on your last day as a 4 year old that I was going to keep you up all night and somehow that would make the next day not come. Five is big boy status and this momma is not ready for that. I still carry you like a baby after bath and sing to you at night (it's usually Amazing Grace or Swing Low, but right now your favorite is Jingle Bell Rock). I'm dreading the day you're too heavy or tell me you are too big for that stuff. I'm hanging on to you as my littlest but you are changing by the minute. Sigh.
You are such a boy, my little 5 year old. All rough and tough with ninja moves and boxing punches that are not so easily tamed. I think about a book that connected your Daddy and I on our first real date - Wild at Heart by John Eldredge. That is you - wild and free and full of heart. I pray often for God to use your warrior spirit for Him - for fighting like Jesus did for the least of these, for having a heart for prayer and a heart for God. You are already not afraid to pray and pray often, and I hear you frequently asking people where they go to church with no prompting from us. We know God is going to use you in mighty ways. 2 Samuel 10:12 says, "Be strong, and let us fight bravely for our people and the cities of our God. The Lord will do what is good in his sight." That's you, son - strong, a fighter.
It's no surprise with that warrior attitude that you love weapons and all things Nerf guns. I'm amazed at the sticks I find in the house that are precious to you because they are a "prized sword or rifle". The sticks aren't terrible compared to my arch nemesis - the tee tiny Legos. Thousands of them. They may be small but they hurt and have led to many rescue operations out of the vacuum cleaner. Just when I think I've picked them all up, I find them in the couch, under a rug, in the dog's mouth. And I know it is only the beginning. Any box less than 12" with a label that says it contains 486 pieces should come with a big, fat warning label.
When you're not fighting for Jesus or fighting with weapons, you are fighting with your sisters. Fighting for attention. You love them. You drive them crazy. They don't know what to do with you sometimes except lock you out of their room. You graciously still have a sign on your bedroom door that says, "No one allowed that doesn't like my sisters." Unfortunately, that still hasn't persuaded them to roll out the welcome mat.
And so you continue your regular prayer for a baby brother. The fact that you were given Daddy's old bunk beds for your birthday has led you to believe you are one step closer to that prayer being answered. No news. We are still praying because some days, I want to hide from my 3 children in the bathroom, and I wonder if I would stay sane if there were more.
Other fun things about you - you make friends with anyone you meet whether they are 2 or 12. You think brushing your teeth and washing up is overrated. You still eat a lot of fruits and vegetables. Carla (the beagle) still sleeps with you, and you are still an early riser. You've officially stopped napping (big sigh), but you can entertain yourself for a long time. I hear you talking out battles and fighting bad guys with Lego men in your hands. You love to dance and cannot sit still. Ever.
I'll leave you with some pictures and video from your Christmas program at preschool. You are a smart kid knowing all your letters and sounds. It's so cool to hear you starting to read some small words. We love you for ever and for always, Mr. Frazier!
Momma and Daddy
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