Days seem to fly by, don't they? One day, you are holding a newborn preemie in you arms, marveling over his tiny fingers and feet, and the next day he is tearing into presents, blowing out candles, and cracking you up more than anyone ever could.
William turned four yesterday. It was the first birthday I think he actually "got." When I asked him when he woke up what day it was, he said "William's cake day!" Our first order of business was a trip to the pet store where we picked out 3 goldfish and a plecostomus. Rather thrilling for a child who has always adored fish, and goldfish above others (and entertaining for a kitten with insatiable curiosity).
His birthday party was a small affair with the family and the grandparents (I'm trying to discourage the huge yearly birthday party expectation that the older kids have). And it was a blast. It was the first year that he unwrapped his presents on his own, and in the lovely innocence of a four-year-old was in love with everything that he opened (except maybe the clothes that we bought him). Of course, when you love Hotwheels and you get tons of them, life is good.
There was much hilarity playing with new blocks and sitting at mommy's old table and chairs (that grandma brought and passed on to him), and then there was cake. A devil's food chocolate icing cake with sprinkles and four candles, which sissy helped blow out (his smile while everyone was singing to him was priceless). And then chocolate icing on every item of clothing he was wearing.
And then playing late into the night on his special cake day. The years have flown. And some days I want to stop time and keep him little forever. But then we have a fun, silly big boy day and I marvel at the little boy he is becoming. Happy fourth birthday, William.