Little Dog at 4

Well, Little Dog here we are at another birthday. Four years old already, and there's no stopping you now. You've had a lot of changes this year and as difficult as they've been at time, if I look at you now, I can easily say you're thriving.
We've moved on from being home with a nanny, to part-time preschool with Big Dog and now you're fully immersed in full day preschool on your own. It was shamelessly hard at times, but you're doing it and I'm so proud.
Looking at you, I barely see that big eyed baby I brought home that first day since he's been replaced with this energetic big boy who keeps me on my toes. My last baby (because Mr. Dog is being all Scroogy in the baby department) is a baby no more. The eyes are still the same, but not much else. But those eyes. Those serene blue eyes are so incongruous with the strong willed imp you've become. And I use imp in the fondest sense of the word, really. Your antics both amuse and frustrate me. You are wildly silly one moment then churlish and feisty the next. And heaven forbid I need you to do something on my time frame, you will once again show me who sets the pace. Just like you did 4 years ago when you kept me waiting that extra week before you graced the outside world with your presence.
At times, I'm already catching glimpses of the teenager you will become. Your put-on brooding, the kind that teenage girls can't get enough of, already has me a little worried. Even your favorite game of telling me "I hate you, mama!" then quickly following it up with the demand, "Cry, mama," and the the sweet, "I love you," that always ends the cycle, reminds me of those surly teenage boys I loved so much. And I know I have a ton of trouble I'll be dealing with later.
But you aren't all tough guy. You're still a world class snuggler who falls asleep each night in my lap. When the sleep sets in and your face almost glows with your peaceful rest, you look like an angel, my love.
As you turn 4, I'm watching you work out who you are. So different from your big brother in so many way, but you still almost hide in his shadow at times. You mimic him incessantly, both to tease him and to follow his lead. Your constant deference to what Big Dog wants makes me a little crazy since I remember having a big sister of my own, but you seem to be happier when he picks, leaving you whatever he rejected. When given first choice, your answer is almost always "Big Dog, which one do you want?" I wonder how long this will last. And as quick as you are to give in to Big Dog, we seem to butt heads more and more frequently. Things need to be done in your order, according to your plan or I feel the frustration emanate from you. And then I'll be asked to build a remote control of one kind or another to right the wrong I have committed. (I think Tivo may have altered your perception of reality.) You are looking for control, for some way to take charge, but often when you find it you realize you don't really want it. I guess this is the big battle for my 4 year old boy.
I love your silly giggles. I love your use of overheard phrases, the way you say "that's crazy!" or "get out of town!" so perfectly intoned that it seems oddly out of place coming from a boy your size. I love your obsession with super heroes, your love of jokes that make no sense and made up rhyming words. Every day I get to be your mommy is a gift. Every day I am rewarded with a big melting hug or even one of your trademark "slobbery kiss" with your bottom lip held down with your index finger, my heart is lifted.
Little Dog, I'm so proud to be your mommy. Happy birthday, big guy. Here's to all the adventures we have to look forward to in the year to come.
I love you.