Finally Four!

It seems as though Owen has been four for quite some time. He is at the tail end of his group of friends, watching their birthdays come and go. Always asking, "When will I be four?" "Am I four yet?"


Well it finally happened. He turned four a couple weeks ago as we boarded an airplane bound for Utah to spend time with family. The birthday boy got the royal treatment on the plane. A visit with the pilot, who showed him around the cockpit. A special birthday wish over the intercom. Extra refreshments from the flight attendants. And a dollar bill gifted from a random stranger.

The celebrating just goes on and on. In all he has partied with family, with cousins and grandparents, at preschool and in primary. And he's about to have one last round of gifts from a second set of grandparents who are coming to visit. Four, indeed!

For some reason four seems so much older than three. It's like a whole new bracket. In clothing, in amusement park admissions, in so many ways. It's so grownup. And so is my Owen.


He is quite the chatterbox. He loves to tell people things. A lot of things. Sometimes too many things. At a restaurant last week, he insisted on using the bathroom by himself. I reluctantly walked him to the door of the men's room and waited outside. He seemed to be taking awhile, when finally a man walked out and said, "Is that your talker in there?" Apparently he had been chatting it up the entire time he was taking care of business. Most of the time people think it's cute at first...but when he won't stop talking, they start to kindly excuse themselves from the conversation.


He does things on his own time or in his own way. Getting ready to go can be tricky. He will not be hurried. Participating in activities like school, swim lessons, and sports can be dicey. He will not be forced. Eating can be pure torture. He will not be pushed. To keep my sanity I have learned to pick my battles. If he's wearing his swim trunks and rashguard to school in late winter I say, "At least he's dressed." If he's refusing to participate in activities I say, "It's because he can't stand to be away from his mother!." If he's insisting on sucking the juice from the grapes rather than eating them whole I say, "It's fruit intake, right?'"


He is rather inquisitive. We go through the string of why? why? why? many times a day. He is curious about most everything. And his questions are getting more advanced. Lately he is fascinated with life and death. He had a whole discussion with me the other day about what I should do when he dies. He wanted to make sure I knew to sit by his side until Heavenly Father came to pick him up. And make sure Heavenly Father knew that Owen was my son. He wants to know, very specifically, how things work and why they are the way they are.


He is developing more of an interest in drawing. I've tried forever to get him to do coloring or other artsy things, but he'd always rather be active. Now I'll go into his room and discover he's drawn a family picture (don't you LOVE the detail on the knees!) Or he's drawn a replica of a story figure we discussed (The Good Samaritan). I love kid's artwork. I'm going to have to restrain myself from keeping all his little drawings.


Mostly, I love how his little mind works. I love that he wakes up in the morning and tells me he had a dirty dream. And he means he literally had a dream where he got really dirty. Or he wants to eat things that have vitamin C because he thinks he needs to see better. I love that he wishes he could go down the drain in the bathtub or have a garage sale where they sell parents. He never fails to surprise me with his comments and thoughts.

Love that Owen. Cheers to being four!