Four.

Yesterday, my oldest baby turned four.

Four.

He's beautiful, and perfect, and sweet and kind, and getting SO BIG.

Yesterday morning, he crawled into bed with me, snuggled in, and asked, "Mommy, why are there balloons?"

The night before, while he slept, I had hung balloons from his doorway.  I replied, "Because it's your birthday, and special things happen on your birthday."

My little man sat there, thinking for a moment, and said, "Oh.  Fair. . . " :)

An hour later, however, when he'd had time to process it, he asked me to go upstairs and look at his "balloon tunnel" with him.  I stood next to him as he stared at it in awe.  "Mommy," he said, "you make me so very happy.  I love you." And he wrapped his little arms around my waist as I choked back tears.

The rest of the day was a blur of breakfast with Grammy and Papa, playtime at Monkey Bizness, nap, and of course, his birthday party.

I have never seen a happier boy than my son last night.  And never have I felt like a better mom than I did in that moment.

Happy birthday, Little Buddy.  You are awesome.