Erik turned four on May 16

I don't even know how to talk about Erik with words. (speechlessness is a rarity with me, as you all well know.)

All I know is every time he says anything, my heart skips a beat. He waddles by me and I swoon. I must scoop him up into my arms and cradle him like a baby, or perish. Is this why he still sometimes acts like a baby?

Just kidding, just kidding! He acts like a four-year-old now. Sometimes, even a child of the mature age of five.

After dressing himself in an outfit of which he's particularly proud, "Do I look like a five-year-old, Mom?" And after finishing his bowl of cereal in record-breaking speed (meaning before the cereal becomes one with the milk), "Did I eat as fast as a five (or even six)-year-old?"

I always answer emphatically in the affirmative because, let's face it, the child is fishing for praise, but come on now! Don't get all five-ish on me yet-- you are still too irresistible to be four!

No one can quite say just why I am so enamored with this son of mine. He does have this endearing vulnerability to him-- mechanical speech, built-in love handles and all. I sure hope I outgrow this uncontrollable feeling for him before he's old enough to be embarrassed of it.

Until that day, let me just bask in the sweet and snuggly splendor that is my Ery-muffin. (What a terrible nickname for a boy, I know, but have you seen this kid's muffin-top, prominent even in the nude?)

He is such a reprieve from the rapscallionish nature of a certain other boy in our household. I always thought I was such an effective mother. I'd successfully trained a polite, calm, well-behaved, imaginative little boy. No, not a polite, calm girl--that is less impressive. A calm and well-behaved BOY.

Ah well, Charlie had to go and shatter that illusion for me. Turns out I had nothing to do with it. Erik was just born the sweetest muffin in the tin. He is not everything perfect and well-behaved (and emotionally stable), but then he walks up to me and tells me, "you look so pwetty, Mom" or when I ask him what he liked about his day he throws his arms around my neck and grins, "evewyfing." Or he spontaneously informs me that "I love you all the way to... (this next part in a robotic voice)... outer space and heaven." So he's not perfect but, well actually, yeah actually, he is.