Happy Fourth Birthday, Elijah!

On September 25th my Elijah will be four...FOUR! I just can't believe the time has gone so fast! Ironically, that exact day was the day Martin proposed to me in 2004, two years before Elijah was born. It seems not much time has passed since then, when we'd spend countless hours walking the park in York, Nebraska, but at the same time it feels worlds away. Now I know things I never planned on knowing like the theme songs to all of the most prominant super heroes, and the names of building trucks like loaders and cherry pickers, dump trucks and cement mixers, which play an active part in our daily lives.
It doesn't seem like I should have a four-year-old. But then again it seems completely impossible not to have him. I love listening to him when he doesn't think I'm listening, like in the car. He talks to himself, relives conversations that we've had or that he's heard in school with character voices and all kinds of drama. Yesterday, he was saying, "No, no Hannah!" in the back seat of the car. I asked who Hannah was. He told me she was a girl at school, but that she was in a different class. This morning I knew exactly who Hannah was when I heard a teacher scolding her and telling her to get back in line. They really are listening ALL THE TIME!
Many days after school i let him change into "play clothes," clothes that aren't school uniform. He has taken on this tendancy, probably from me, that his clothes have to match. He refused to wear his favorite "number twelve" pants because we couldn't find the "number twelve" shirt. Then he saw one of his jumpsuits, you know those sweats that have matching sweat tops... they look like little running suits, any ways... he was thrilled when he discovered that he found something that matched. "I'll wear these, mom!" he exclaimed excitedly and bounced on his bed to pull them on.
He's always making me laugh about something... many times when I shouldn't be laughing. Its a known fact that laughing when you aren't suppose to is ten times more fun than when its expected, like in church, or in my case when I'm trying to be stern and disciplining my child. He's had so many potty accidents that it has become routine to go in the bathroom and get him cleaned up. Its incredibly hard not to giggle when he starts singing while I'm trying to get him cleaned up, or when he turns to me like nothing is going on and says "I love you," or something silly.
Saturday, that silly boy will hold up four fingers instead of three when you ask him his age, and there will be four candles on his DUMP TRUCK cake, but part of me will always see that baby, my first that was born on the 25th of September.