Dear sweet Judah,
I wrote in your journal on your birthday, but not here. I'm thinking back on your birthday and you today, far away from the snow that you loved so much this winter.
Four years old has hit you like a ton of bricks. I don't know what it is that brings with this age such strong feelings (and tears), both high and lown. I noticed it with your sister in her 3rd year, but you seemed immune. Glad to just be alive and as we used to say when you were a baby, you Ate Life! Happy to just take it all in. But hard things happen sometimes. You got a new brother just the year before that took the focus off of
you for awhile while we adjusted and recovered from not one, but two
pregnancies, one that was rough, didn't last and made Mama and Papa very sad. You had a scary experience in a pool where you got away from me and spent a few seconds alone under water and it hung over you for a long time. Little fears crept in and for a little while squashed down your natural tenacity and vivaciousness. You knew how you felt, but not how to say it, or say what it was you really needed.
Thankfully with much love and care and time, that seemed to pass and your old joy reappeared. Papa and I understand what it is to be a middle child. We both were once. We know you need extra time and love to be seen and heard and we try to take that time where ever we can. A snuggle here, a story there, a walk, a conversation, a shared chore (not your favorite, but you do it with me). You hardly ever ask, just happy to be here and with us all, but we know you need it too. The squeaky wheel may get the grease, but we know you need attention even if you don't complain.
You learned to ride a bike with all of your stubborn strength and will, in spite of it being too small for you now. You were determined. You fell lots of times, just like when you learned to walk, and I expected you to walk away, but you didn't. You fought for it. And you were rewarded with the thrill of racing on your bike down the sidewalk, victorious and fast.
You sing at the top of your lungs whenever the song hits you, no matter where we are. I understand how that is. I do the same, just not at the top of my lungs any more. Just ask my family how much the liked it. (p.s. it bugged them, but I still love when you do it) You long to play and instrument and can sing back any tune or song. Like the theme music for Peter Pan and Captain Hook in the Disney movie. You sing Peter's theme when you are happy and up to mischief. It suits you so well. Your jokes improve with every passing day and I love how you love to find things to be joyful about. We joke that you are Emmet from the Lego movie who said, "I can be dark and brooding...Look guys a rainbow!!"
You are my go along to go along guy and generally play well with your older sister and younger brother, intent on fun rather than having your ideas be the ones that are used. You build legos like a maniac and love (yes still) anything with wheels or that flies. You make your loud vrooms and screeches go along with it. I love your gentle spirit, your love of justice, your kindness, your willingness to share or ask or think of others. I love that you never quit, but just try again until it works for you, willing to be terrible at it until you succeed. It makes my heart brim with love to see you push through your fear and swim or try because you trust me and want to try. You are my fella and I love you with all my heart.
Love always,
Mama
