Journey to the Knot: And Another Year Makes FOUR: Quinn Newsletter

Dear Quinn,
I remember saying that you were my favorite two-year-old last year, and I remember feeling sad that you were turning three. Here I am a year later, and I am feeling that same familiar way. Three has been rough, but most everything has been age-appropriate for a "threenager." And, perhaps I'm realizing that as a second-born child, your milestones just seem to be taken a bit easier than Banner's. That's your big advantage, I suppose. I've "been there, done that," so seemingly, whatever twists and turns you throw at us, we have seen them before. I typically feel so excited for Banner to reach a birthday - like "we made it another year! We survived another year of parenting!" With you, there seems to be more nostalgia - more longing for more time with you so little. This is sounding awful... it's so hard to explain. It's not that I don't want you to grow up, and not that I want Banner to be old, but it's just a different emotion with each of you. Definitely as Banner gets older, I feel an urgency to stop time, to slow it down, but when my second-born is getting older, that feeling is felt even deeper. Let's not even talk about Knox growing up! :) Maybe it's because you're my sidekick, my cuddle bug, my affectionate-as-always little guy, and I'm scared to lose that with each passing year. You were the one who literally cuddled with me in the hospital bed for 4 days straight. You were the one I was a complete "stay-at-home" mom with - barely leaving you for more than a day at a time. You had the most trouble separating from me, and I guess my heart is having a hard time pulling away from that baby who only wanted to be held and stroked and cuddled! Your love language and mine are quite similar, and we just want to be near each other.

I want to tell you so many things about you at FOUR years old now! This past year has been so very interesting! It started off a little rocky. You were seemingly regressing at a rapid speed early in the school year last year. For several months, you complained about going to school, cried, seemed anxious about being away from us, and even refrained from doing activities at school and acted fearful. You were one of the only ones potty-trained in your class, you were no longer napping, you had just moved houses, and you had a baby brother who was newly mobile. There were many reasons you may have been "regressing," and we never did figure it out, but I'm glad it subsided by November or December. One thing I remember that set some of your school fear off was the Yom Kippur discussions about saying you are sorry to God. I think you thought you had to go speak directly to God or meet him during services or something, and you started refusing to say you were sorry about anything. "I don't want to say I'm sorry!!" you would cry/whine. You were afraid of Ms. Shellee; you didn't want to go to Hebrew class. There was even a bear song you wouldn't sing in class (and your class was the Bear class!). But slowly, things got better, and I stopped dreading telling you that yes, in fact, you did have school that day.

Throughout the year, you've slowly come into your own. You love to tell jokes! You say you want to be a jokester when you grow up. You also love cooking, arts and crafts, going to the park, playing games, watching Team Umizoomi, Daniel Tiger, or anything Knox loves (Yo Gabba Gabba and BabyTV). You say your best friends are Levi and Nami. Your best friend at school is Daniel, but since you aren't in the same class this year, you haven't spent as much time together. You still play the best with Blakely - we just wished she lived in town! You just HAVE to have your milk in the morning and ask for refill after refill. Your favorite song is "Bad" by Michael Jackson, and you love to dance to specific requests: Eye of the Tiger, Final Countdown, Can't Stop the Feeling, If You're Gonna Play in Texas, Friends are Family, just to name a few. You may just be an actor when you grow up, too! You like to act out scenes from movies - specifically this year, your favorite was Branch and Poppy from Trolls. You're not as loud as you were at 3 and a half, but you still forget to turn your volume down. Your voice demands our attention, often saying, "Mommy, watch this! Mommy! Watch!" Or, you are whining something to us.

Oh, the whining. Long, drawn out short vowels come out of your mouth more often than not. "Mooooooommy, I caaaaan't. I need heeeeeelp." Or, a whimper as you feel frustrated about something. "Ehhhhhh hehhhhhh, it's not woooooorking!" Your face scrunches up, your left eye squints up more than your right, and you seem in such despair. When you feel something, you FEEEEEL it .You can be quick to worry, panic, or give up. But, you are also my little ray of sunshine in that you will usually look for the positives. On your first day of Camp Gan Izzy, Banner was saying he was nervous as we parked the car. "It's okay, Bannah," you said, "maybe it won't be that bad." Or, instead of feeling jealous or upset that you didn't have a play date upon Banner's return home from one, "That sounds like a fun play date, Bannah." You really are so very positive and thoughtful - at least when it's about others. You are pretty optimistic about everyone but yourself. You're quick to feel defeated or overwhelmed and need help. You can be impatient with yourself and not give yourself enough credit for a good try.

You are sensitive and want to be a helper for others. You have the most amazing manners! "Thank you, Mommy," you'll say - always with my name - when I hand you something or open something or do a favor for you. You nearly ALWAYS say someone's name when responding, "Hi, Grandma," or "Thank you, Uncle Erick," "Thank you for calling, Levi," or "See you tomorrow, Aunt Mischelle." Something about this little extra sign of respect speaks volumes about how you care about others. Your camp counselor, Rachel, this summer (who happens to be a former student of mine), asked, "Can you just raise my kids for me one day? Because whatever you are doing, you are doing it right! Your kids are so well behaved and have the best manners!" She was standing next to your other camp counselor, Jacob, who agreed both you and Banner have great manners.

I'm also pretty sure you're a gifted kiddo when it comes to language and articulating yourself. Your vocabulary is off the charts. I'm caught off-guard and blown away almost daily at what new ideas you have or how you convey something to me. I just love the way your brain works. You truly think about things! Once you asked me, "Do little foods think we are giants?" One day on the way home from school, we were singing "Down By the Bay," and the song says, "Did you ever have a time, when you couldn't make it rhyme?" and you said, "That doesn't make sense because that DOES rhyme!" You use words like "actually," "realized," "activity," and "original." One day you heard Banner and I arguing and feeling frustrated with each other. You came in and said, "What are you disagreeing about?" You know all your letters and sounds - although you confuse V and Y and W sometimes. And, I'm pretty sure you can read without knowing you're doing it. I know you know words like "play" and "start" and "no" - and signs on the street like "do not enter" and "stop." You even read the sign across the back of the RiverWalk ferry in June: "No seating allowed." I'm telling you, you are totally doing it, but you just don't know it!

Other random facts: you still snore; you purse your lips and chin with a little bit of air in your cheeks/upper lip when you're nervous; you wear size 9.5-10 shoe; you still don't like sweets but you think you do and will still ask for candy/cake/cookies and just never eat them; you're the most accident-prone of my three kids - if for no other reason that you just have bad luck when it comes to ridiculous accidents; yet you're the luckiest kid when it comes to lottery-like games (always have been); I'm pretty sure you have restless leg syndrome. No really - you can't keep your legs still in bed at night.

You still can't say your R's. "Bannah,"" ca-ee" (car), "moah" (more), "stoah" (store), Daniel "Tigah." You substitute /v/ for /th/: "muvah" (mother), "togevah," (together), "each ovah" (each other). Or, you substitute /f/ for /th/: "fumb" (thumb), "free" (three), "baf" (bath). You think the word "maybe" is "naybe." On occasion, I cannot understand a word you are saying or misinterpret something you said. I'm very sensitive to this because I never want you to be frustrated by your speech when you use your vocabulary so well to tell us your thoughts. I get internally defensive and annoyed when others mock you or make fun of your articulation. I know it's because it's cute ... like really cute!! It's still what we call your "New York accent." But, I don't want to point it out or make you feel insecure about it.

You've had a wonderful summer at camp - making new friends and experiencing a new place with new teachers. You handled yourself so well, and you and Levi had a blast being together in the same class. You also are starting a new soccer team this season, and so far you are enjoying it so much. You've become quite a little fish in the water, and you love to go swimming at Grandma's house.

Your birthday festivities started yesterday at school, continued at Shabbat at Temple, continued today, and we have your party tomorrow evening! Last night, I put you to bed in Banner's bed (since Daddy was out campaigning, I put you both to bed in his room and move you later in the night). Before I laid with you guys, I asked for one more big hug from my three-year-old because I'd never hug you as a three-year-old again. As those words passed my lips, I got tears in my eyes, knowing I'd one day want that moment back and could never have it. I tried so hard to embrace that moment - my sweet Quinn giving me one of his "famous Quinn hugs" that just feel so special. I laid between you and Banner, all of us holding hands. I took a few pictures of you before leaving the room, and in the morning - you were four!

We celebrated with a traditional balloon party, and you said, "This is the best day evah!" as you jumped up and down to the music we put on. I asked you if you feel any older, and you said, "No, not yet." I told you maybe later you would. Sure enough, when you and your brothers were dancing around my bedroom while we waited for Daddy to get back from the donut store, you stopped mid-dancing and said, "Now I feel oldah, Mommy. I feel the magic."💙😍 After donuts, we hung out most of the day; a special Saturday without swimming or soccer and a canceled birthday party allowed us to just be lazy and play at home. I read you my "I Believe" for this past year, and we took your chair pictures. This afternoon, BeeBee came over to deliver a gift from her and Zaide. It was a baking set: a mixer with cake and brownie mixes, spatulas, an apron and baker's hat. You were excited to get that, and we made the cake mix right away. Later, we went to D & B for games and dinner. And tonight, I got my first bedtime hug from my four-year-old! I picked you up and rocked you as we hugged, and you said, "No, Mommy! I'm not a baby!" But, yes, you will always be my baby!

Quinn Redding, you are one of the most thoughtful, caring, nurturing, affectionate, and loving little boys I know (and I know a lot of little boys!). You genuinely care about others and see the best in people. While you cry and whine when you don't get your way, you've become quite mature at handling no for an answer - always keeping the door open that I might change my mind. "No, Mommy, not today, but another day can we get that?" or "One day, can we go to ___?" You're able to hear "Yes, maybe," and drop it, which helps keep the peace. I love how you seem to reason with me and understand that we can't have everything we want when we want it. At the times you do cry and get upset, I get it, and you usually need a hug or a cuddle to get past those feelings. I just love raising you and being your biggest fan and advocate to help you be the successful, confident little boy you are and are growing to be! I've been telling you that watching you and your brothers grow up is bittersweet: I am so pleased and gracious that you are growing and healthy, but I'm sad to say goodbye to the you as a three-year-old. I wouldn't want it any other way really. I am excited to see YOU excited about getting to be a bigger boy, a boy who will "be able to touch the ceiling when" you turn four, who can "take two vitamins when" you turn four, who "will be a grown up when" you turn four. Oh, I just want to freeze you, though, at the same time - to never let go of one of the cutest, smartest, most creative, funniest, cuddliest three-year-olds ever. But, let's get on with it and welcome you to being "fo-ah!'

Happy Birthday, My Love!
I love you so much more than you could ever imagine - even though you think you can quantify it as "to the next universe and back... twice."
Love,
Mommy