For those of you new to the blog, every year on the boys' birthdays I make them a montage of all the fun things they did during the year, set to one of their new favorite songs. I am sad to announce that this year, newly 4's favorite song was "Bad Medicine." I'm even sadder to announce that I have yet to capture him singing "Bad Medicine" on video, because a 3 year old singing "Oh oh oh, shake it up, it's wike baaaaad med-sins, bad med-sins what I need," is some seriously hysterical shizz.
So, yeah, not only do I not really care for "Bad Medicine" myself, but the song is LOOOONNNNGGGG, which led to me inserting an entire roller coaster ride right smack dab in the middle. So be warned--if you're not into Bon Jovi, or pictures and videos of other people's kids, or poorly filmed roller coaster rides, then you might want to skip this entry and swing back around next week.
And now, a little note for Lo...
I almost didn't write this letter, and it may be the last public letter I write to you, and the last montage I post. I've been thinking a lot about the person you're becoming and the unique stresses of growing up in the internet age, and I'm not sure that, as a teen, you'll be cool with me having posted baby montages of you past the age of four-ish. We'll wait and evaluate next year, but as of now, I'm wary.
You're such an independent little man. You have very firm opinions on everything from fashion--you want black jeans, only black jeans, and woe to the parent who is tasked with getting you into anything but--to what music we play in the car, to what you think is funny and whether or not I am a genius (I am not, according to you. I'm not sure where you learned about the concept of a genius or how you came to the conclusion that I'm not one, but I have to agree.)
You, however, just may be a genius. You amaze me everyday, from the moment you were born and you looked around the delivery room with a "Really? This again? You've got to be kidding me" expression on your face, to a few weeks ago in the car when you and I had a conversation about why we didn't like Mitt Romney and you brought up several talking points from the broadcast we'd just listened to on NPR. You blow my mind, little man. You suck in all the information around you, twist it up in your brain, and spit out little gems that are some of the funniest things I've ever heard. You bring such clever goofiness to our family, and we love you for it.
You are also a handful and a half, and a bonafide Mess, but you know what they say...it takes one to know one. (Thankfully your father has lots of experience on how to deal with messes, having been married to one for six years.)
We love you buddy. Thanks for another crazy, magical year.