Monday, March 22, 2010

Finding His Place

(photo credit to my youngest sister-in-law)

And so it is complete, that transition from baby to boy. So much growing up happens between three and four. I saw it with your brother, so I knew it was coming with you, too. Still, I am in awe to see it again, watching as your face and body grow long and agile and strong with the play of boyhood, seeing you grow more daring and independent, watching you run into childhood and leave the baby years behind.

I am glad, though, that you have not lost you sweet spirit and love of beautiful things as you enter the kingdom of boys. You are such a gift to us, Hobbes, and we too often forget to notice. You are kind and helpful and loving, you like to spend time just being with the people you love. Grandpa still seems to be your favorite. He bought you a big bag of candy for your birthday, and the way you beamed at him, your whole face smiling, made all of us glad. The only person who beats out Grandpa is your baby brother. You love Linus so protectively, going in to his crib to play with him when he is crying in the morning, bringing him toys, and feeding him while he sits in his high chair. You are a good big brother.

You have such a great imagination and enjoy making beautiful things, painting and blowing bubbles and sculpting play-dough. Your daddy and I got you art lessons for your birthday, and I can't wait to see you at work in the studio. If there is a paint brush out, you beg to have it in your hand. You have such a busy little mind, working to create and build scenes from computer games you play with Daddy or making up your own creations. You are comfortable in your own skin and mind now and can play without Calvin, creating your own worlds and stories.
You are entering your boy years with such a wonderful spirit, quirky sense of humor, and lively imagination, and my joy at the boy you are becoming far outweighs my sadness at your growing. It doesn't hurt that you still love your people enough to come back to us after a good adventure.

Go forth, dear Hobbes, to slay dragons and build cities and paint masterpieces and run barefoot in the wild. I know you will always be home for dinner and maybe, if I am lucky, for a few more years of cuddling at bedtime.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

very sweet