Tolliver turns four

I loved him from the minute I knew he was there.  
And now it's hard to believe, but we're four years in, an entire presidential term.

His nose crinkles when he grins and it makes his freckles dance.

He has hands that tear things apart and hold things together, legs that grow faster than a lie.

He talks as if every word starts with a capital letter, rarely just saying anything, but rather declaring it all.

He has a very evaluative mind.  Experiences go into the hopper of examination and out clunk some strong opinions.  These opinions act as his GPS system, guiding him passionately toward what he wants - a sip of my coffee, the whole plate of bacon, endless playdates, at least five vehicles in bed overnight - and away from what he does not want - roasted vegetables, anything pink, long family meals, a speck of boredom.

He knows what he likes and he likes it with confidence.
Yet he seems to always leave a little room to be surprised.

I am grateful for his dramas as much as his discoveries.  He is wild to the core, tender and intentional and so, so stubborn.  He is intelligent and hilarious, a tiny body bursting with personality and conviction and passion and love that could conquer a million armies.

If this is the pace at which Tolliver lives onward, then we are in for a real treat.

*He wanted nothing more for his fourth birthday than a toy taxi cab and dinner at McDonalds.