Today, Elijah turned four.  Honestly, I am mentally relieved that four is here, because for months I have had the hardest time remembering that he is only three.  I don’t know why exactly.  I think, in some ways, it is that my expectations of him have been set at a level that has been a bit high for a three-year old…or, at least, that is higher than what I’ve had for his older siblings.

And, a lot of the time, I find him seeking responsibilities that are beyond his years.  He sees his big brothers and big sister doing chores and schoolwork, using the computer and, in general, just being more autonomous than him, and he wants to be like them.

He sees Tim or me spending time working on things, and he wants to be near and involved, so he asks questions and offers to help, and tries so very hard to get us to see that he’s a big boy.  He asks almost daily if he’s getting bigger or taller or stronger or faster.  He tries to understand humor and movies and how things work, and he asks really specific questions to refine that understanding.

There is an innocence about Elijah that is deeper than just his age.  He unabashedly seeks approval when he thinks he’s done a good job, and he is so quick to praise others when he sees something good in them.  He is outgoing (at least in my eyes) and I try not to cringe, or fear for his rejection, when he says hi to someone whose name he remembers after hearing it just once, and they [often] ignore him, because he’s a little kid that they don’t really know at all.  I hope that innocence stays with him.  I hope that love for people stays with him.

While this birthday reminds me that there are limited days left of him asking to sit on my lap, or wanting to give me goodnight kisses on both cheeks and my chin and forehead, or telling silly jokes, I am glad for reminder.  As easy as it can be to just count him as a tag-along to the bigger kids, I am thankful that he is only four and that I can let him be my little boy for a while longer still.