Five

I teared up yesterday at the thought of it, like every mother does. Five is like a real live kid. The toddler years of chubby cheeks and thighs, Buda bellies and dimpled hands have long since been replaced by lanky limbs and skinny torsos. Thank goodness for his September birthday so we get an extra year of preschool out of the deal. 

We started birthday week off at the grocery store, making The Choice. They get any box of sugary, artificially colored crap that they want. And I cheer them on. I love this tradition. Because even though my cupboards are full of weird stuff like chia seeds and giant tubs of coconut oil and apple cider vinegar "with the mother" (I still have no clue what that means but I drink it anyway), saying yes to breakfast dreams in a box feels good. (And as my mom always jokes, I'm living out my childhood dreams vicariously through them.)

All three boys pitched in to help with baking Dawson's cake. And it was even sorta fun. 

We started his birthday morning off with pancakes and bacon. (Because no birthday is complete without bacon in my book.) Being together, just the five of us, singing him happy birthday was really special. Dawson's not a big fan of crowds and chaos and I love seeing him happy and relaxed when it's just us. (And Pamela's GF pancake mix was delicious, by the way. You know you're officially a health nut when your seven year old says, "We're having pancakes? Are they the green ones or the flat brown ones?" and cheers excitedly when you tell him they're the flat brown ones. They'll thank me one day. Or just binge on Little Debbie cakes and McDonald's for five years straight. More likely the latter.)

 

Dawson really wanted an Indiana Jones party and I really wanted to give him one. But about five days before his birthday, we were at Target and the thought of crafting up every bit of the decorations from scratch utterly overwhelmed me. So I steered him towards the party aisle and asked him with great enthusiasm, "Wouldn't you LOVE to have a pirate party instead?? Look at all this cool pirate stuff!" He happily obliged and I was off the hook. (Reading this post made me laugh. Clearly I've gotten over my mom guilt in this area since then!) We had his party at a park which was a lot of fun but a little hectic, trying to remember everything I would possibly need to bring from home. It also doesn't help when you show up with a carload of things ten minutes before the party is supposed to start. Will I learn to manage time better before I'm 80? Probably not. I'll probably still be running late to Bingo games and knitting club.

Look at this kid. Can you even handle this?? Gosh. Quit being so cute.  

My mother-in-law, Judie, always come through for me on these parties. I gave her like, two jobs this time, and she always does lots of other things because she's awesome. She decorated the cake for me and made all the little food signs for the table. She also made the treasure maps the kids used and brought the cute fabric for the table from her little pile of scraps. 

She bought the costume for Dawson as part of his birthday present. It will be for dress up and he can wear it for halloween as well. (Glad that's taken care of ;) 

"Berried Jewels", "Golden Nuggets", "Polly's Crackers" to go with chicken salad, "Fish and Chips" and "Pirate Boats". Thanks Target Dollar Spot for adorable paper straws on the cheap.

We sent the kids on a treasure hunt around the pond. We planted all of their goodie bag items at different spots and marked them with an X on their map. The big kids did it too but I told them they had to give the little kids a head start and they were NOT allowed to pass them. The two first born boys in the group were not too happy about this rule. I'm surprised they didn't start breaking out in hives from not being in front.

It was so cute letting them do this all on their own and watching the little band of pirates search for loot.

 My nephew just happened to have a pirate chest we could borrow for the final stop on the map.

I never want to lead any party games (because frankly, I'm just ready for a nap at this point) so an activity like this, that takes up a good chunk of time, is fun for the kids and requires zero participation on my part is what I call a win-win.

I love this next picture so much. Dawson has two cousins his exact age (and so does Bennett, by the way. It's so awesome.) and I love seeing their sweet little faces altogether. The cake turned out to be horrible. I've been doing a mostly gluten free diet for the boys at home (Channing's the most sensitive and the other two are mildly sensitive. I've seen improvements in behavior and with some skin issues.) I'm quite certain I botched something when I doubled the mix because, as my sister so gently put it, the texture was like corn bread. The flavor was fine but it was basically a brick with frosting (which I still ate because I'll eat pretty much anything with frosting on it.) Poor Dawson. I should probably give him a do-over. That's not a bad idea. Any excuse for more cake is good with me. 

There was a moment at his party there aren't any pictures of but I hope it stays burned into my memory forever. After the party had been going on for a couple of hours, Dawson started getting sulky and was kind of off on his own. I went over to ask him if he was ok and heard him telling his friends he wanted to be alone. In so many words, I realized he was just getting overstimulated and needed a break. He said, "I want to go sit by the tree." I asked him if he wanted to be by himself and he said, "no, with you mom." I grabbed his little hand, and pulled him onto my lap under a tree. His friends gathered around but I told them he'd had a lot of excitement and just needed a little break. They were so sweet and waited off to the side for him. And so we sat. In silence. I don't know what was going on in his head but my mind was trying to soak up every second of it. It was perhaps one of my favorite moments of his whole life. I'm probably just forgetting all the rest but it was huge to me. Last year at his party, there was a HUGE meltdown by him (and then followed with one by me because my husband and I weren't on the same page) because he wouldn't say thank-you to anyone when he was opening his gifts. I almost can't believe sometimes that this is the same kid that would be screaming so loudly and thrashing around so violently in his carseat that I would have to pull over and get out and pace for a while just to keep from driving us all off of a cliff (not that this would be very effective in Iowa. 'Driving us into a cornfield' just doesn't have the same ring to it.). And if it was a safe spot, sometimes I'd pull him out of the car and leave him screaming on the sidewalk until we could all get back in calmly. (This was not a random occurrence. This happened constantly.) This was the same kid, when around age three, I sat at my dining room table with my head in my hands and tears streaming down my cheeks wondering if his whole life was just going to be a battle. At that point I truly thought it was. I read books like The Strong Willed Child by James Dobson that left me more fearful than hopeful. (I know he meant well. But gosh. So much talk about inevitable rebellious teenage years made me want to turn him over to a monastery when he turned thirteen and wish them luck.) It wasn't until I read Raising Your Spirited Child that things finally turned around. You can read about the life change here. And now here is, just getting quiet and asking for alone time in my lap, just like I did with him a hundred times last year when I was training him to recognize when he was feeling worked up. No screaming. No tantrums or tears. I want the weight of that to sink in; for me and for any other mama currently in the trenches of toddler years with a spirited child. 

And now he's five. And he brings me so much joy, I have to refrain myself from squeezing him to death ten times a day. His imagination is absolutely incredible. He will play by himself for literally hours, if no one is around to disturb him. I love how all the qualities that make a spirited child so difficult to parent at two and three are completely turned into incredible strengths once they can communicate well and use more restraint over their emotions. He sees people and he cares about them. He's so polite and friendly to other kids and is just hilarious. He wakes me up in the middle of the night to tell me about whatever dream he just had and then goes right back to sleep. I always think I'll remember them by morning but I never do. 

Dawson Graham, you are the spark of magic in this family. You are unpredictable and crack me up constantly with the things that pop out of your mouth (and then get upset that I'm laughing at you. I always try to explain that I'm laughing because you bring me joy.) You still cry just by thinking about something sad. And you talk a lot about God. Your brain sees things in pictures and I love the way you describe what you see in that head of yours. You are so musical and pick up tunes instantly and in perfect pitch. You are easy to take places now and you're easy to have at home. It's kind of the most ironic thing to me ever that you are currently my lowest maintenance child. You are such a gift to me and I'm honored and humbled that I get to parent a child like you. Someday you'll be a gift to the rest of the world too. But for now I'm here with you, your safe place to land when the world around you is just a little too much to handle on your own. 

a {big} update

A handful of things you might care to know...

I talked about our decision to move here. We sold our house sometime in January after just four showings. But then it fell through. And then it was back on again. But we still didn't have anywhere to move. So I didn't really talk about it much. We've also been walking through a very hard season of marriage, so frankly, the house stuff was the least of my worries. Selling a house and moving is usually a HUGE thing for people but its funny how it's barely been a blip on my stress radar. But lo and behold, our moving date is next week. Sooooo...probably time to start talking about it. It's also probably time to start packing. But I'm so close to the title of World's Best Procrastinator. I'm somewhere around third or fourth place overall. But I think by waiting to pack a single box until a week before our moving date, that will seal my title once and for all. I dare any of you to challenge me. I will dominate you.
And where are we moving, you might ask? For now we're moving into a three bedroom townhouse that's almost directly across the street from where we live now. (I'll probably just start chucking things across the street, rather than packing it all up.) Ideally we'd be moving into our perfect home in the woods, just a few minutes from my in-laws, but God's holding us up. The lady hasn't sold it to anyone else (it's been quite a long, drawn-out, process trying to acquire that property) so we're crossing our fingers that one day it'll be ours. Until then, we continue to look at pieces of land further out in the country. I just really, really (REALLY) don't want to live half an hour or more away from my in-laws since we're such a close-knit family and are at their house all the time. Trusting God fully that He'll lead us right where He wants us at just the right time. In the mean time, I'm pretty excited to down-size. For the past four years we've lived in a very comfortable home. Not too big, not too little. But this past year, as I've taken on more and more of the household responsibilities due to Jon's schedule (and our little caboose has taken on more and more responsibility of making messes), I've become increasingly overwhelmed to the point of sheer misery. It's always a mess, all the time. And I hate it. So I think this is a small way of receiving grace from God in this area. He's giving me a more manageable place for this difficult season. Also, I was itching to repaint the entire first floor of our home to something lighter and brighter, but was having a hard time wrapping my mind around accomplishing that with three little kids, so this gets me out of that too! ;) Now I can have a fresh start with decorating. 

(Random pictures for a random post. Seeing these compared to these, makes me want to get out my big camera again!)

A little Bennett story for you. He cut a chunk from the front of his hair several months ago because he wanted to "look like Dad". But when the time came to actually chop off all of his beloved curls, he chickened out (Phew!!). So we waited and waited for his patch of hair to grow back out in the front. It finally did. A couple days ago he got into some Silly Putty that I had hidden away. He knew he wasn't supposed to have it. He got a chunk of it stuck in the front of his hair. But instead of confessing, he decided to just CUT IT OUT. Because I certainly wouldn't notice a giant chunk of his hair missing right in the middle of his forehead. Y'all, this is no surprise coming from him. He's 6 3/4 and still a very destructive kid. He means well but his little hands never stop. He has a lot of love but he also has a lot of energy that isn't always focused correctly. (Hence, a huge reason that boy needs woods to play in. He can go to town on some logs, rather than on his hair and clothes and bedding and all the other things.) His punishment was no screen-time for a week. That's his kryptonite. His weak spot. I'd been wanting to cut way back once the weather turned anyway, so this was the perfect lead-in to that. Yesterday was five days in (five days that have been much more peaceful, mind you. Turns out that not turning the TV on at all is actually easier on him than watching for three hours and then having to turn it off.) and guess what he said to me? "Mom, I'm actually kind of enjoying this. I might just do it for two extra days." I about fell off of my chair. Glory to the highest, peace on earth, good will to men. I might have cried tears of joy. And if I didn't, my heart surely did. Lesson learned. Thank you, Jesus.

On the subject of Bennett, another major life decision I made recently was to homeschool him next year. He did well in Kindergarten but this year, in first grade, things sort of all fell apart. He begs and begs me to stay home and has shed a lot of tears before school in the mornings. I think it's a combination of things, physical, mental and emotional. Mostly, he's young (a June birthday, one of the youngest in his class) and he's so high-energy so having to focus for such long periods of time isn't easy for him. He's also bored. (I know....this can be a cop-out. But so many of the papers he brings home are things he knew when he was three or four. I know this is playing into it because he really enjoys the days when he's pulled out for advanced curriculum.) I think there are other emotional issues with other kids and teachers, etc. It's been breaking my heart hearing my joyful, smart boy saying he hates school.I'm also not keen on some of the language skills and attitude he's picked up from his peers. Dawson will be in four day preschool next year, so my goal is to just homeschool Bennett for a year, make it as fun as possible, reignite a love for learning (Lord, help me!) and then transition him to the Christian school for third grade. But if we love it, we'll just keep going. No pressure either way. If it ends up being horrible, we'll just switch to the Christian school half-way through the year. I decided a long time ago I was going to homeschool Dawson for Kindergarten and 1st grade (to avoid what happened to Bennett) based on the advice from Bringing Up Boys and Raising Cain. I really challenge you, if you still have a preschool aged son, to read Raising Cain before making up your mind about school. At the very least, look into Montessori options or half-day Kindergarten. But first grade is such a transitional year, that's going to be the toughest one. 

Dawson's still my hilarious, passionate boy. Full of surprises every day. He's still very tough to deal with at times, and get's into the "Red Zone" (a term from Raising Your Spirited Child, that he understands and we talk about a lot.) when he's using a baby voice and usually flailing around and completely unfocused. But if he's not too far gone, I can usually use a few calm words to help him identify it and he'll get himself back to the "Green Zone". (Only after a year of work, is this possible.) Sometimes though, we still have major tantrums and meltdowns that we deal with as best we can. He and Channing clash a lot these days and he's most at peace when he can play by himself, completely uninterrupted for long stretches. 

He's always had heightened senses and being too hot turns him into monster child. He'll start flailing and kicking and screaming and crying and is nearly inconsolable. This winter I learned that he would have to wear his coat to the car but once inside the car, we'd have to take it off. I can't tell you how many times I had to pull over to remove his coat halfway home because he'd get overheated and would absolutely lose his mind (while the rest of us sat comfortably). And since the weather has warmed up, he's already been complaining that the car is too hot and it's only 60 degrees outside. I think I'm actually going to have to buy a clip-on battery powered fan for the car. I don't think either of us will survive the summer without it.
Channing is at such a fun and equally horrible age. His vocabulary is really picking up and he's starting to communicate better. His fit throwing is altogether hilarious to watch sometimes. I've never had a child throw themselves face-down onto the floor so much. Sometimes he does it with just an unhappy little grunt and lays there in silence. (But sometimes there is A LOT of screaming happening. That's not hilarious.) The last week or so, he's had considerably fewer tantrums and I'm praying it sticks. He's taken up wandering out of the yard, though. I actually had to call 911 last week when I was helping Dawson take off his coat and boots inside and by the time I went back out to grab Channing, he was nowhere to be found. And it was cold and windy. He was gone for about twenty minutes total and was found by a bus driver, who knows where. He passed him off to the police before I got to them.  It was horrible and scary and left me feeling like the worst parent ever. Let's move on, shall we?

He's been a tough nut to crack. I see glimpses of such incredible tenderness, it makes me melt. I took Dawson and Channing for a long walk in the woods yesterday. At the end, on the way back to the car, Dawson kept running ahead. He had a bright blue shirt on, so I kept my eye on him (honestly....I do watch my kids most of the time. ;) but I kept having to shout at him to stay within my line of sight. He was way ahead of us for quite some time. And when we finally caught back up to him, Channing squealed with delight and went and hugged him. He always starts whimpering in empathy when either Bennett or Dawson is really upset about something. It's so sweet to see. But boy, is he touchy around people he's not completely comfortable with. He's incredibly shy and slow to adapt to new situations. He has a hell of a temper and is by far my pickiest eater. But it's interesting noticing the subtle differences after having raised a spirited child like Dawson. Its so hard but yet, it's different. Not as intense. His tantrums don't last as long. And if he's being outright naughty, he'll actually respond (some of the time) to a very stern voice or firm squeeze of the hand (or a very, very occasional spank.). All the things I could never say about Dawson at that age. So I have hope that as his vocabulary increases, his screaming will decrease. 

Life with a spirited child...on the other side.

We have walked a long road with our middle child, Dawson. I wrote all about life with our spirited child just a handful of months ago here. He had just turned four when I wrote that. Back then I would say we had an even amount of good days and bad days; maybe slightly more good than bad. Just 6 months later, at 4 1/2, the good days far outweigh the bad. He has maybe one tough day a week, due to lack of sleep and then just brief moments during other days due to hunger or a transition to his day that comes unexpectedly. (Unless our schedule is drastically changed, like for vacation. Then the days can be rough.) This child is blossoming like a rare and beautiful flower, layers upon layers of petals that had remained hidden until now. His sensitivity to sights and smells and sounds and emotions is nothing short of miraculous. But just two years ago, it felt like nothing short of torture, every little thing setting him off like an explosive volcano. He was assaulted by his heightened senses and had no words to explain how he was feeling so everything came out as a massive screaming fit.

A huge turning point was when I got my hands on the book, Raising Your Spirited Child, which everyone who knows me already knows because I talk about it all the time. Before that book, I remember so many days and nights of feeling total and utter defeat. I didn't know how to parent my son and it was a horrible feeling. I remember sitting at my kitchen table, with tears in my eyes, crying out to God, "Is it always going to be this hard? His whole life. Is it just going to be hard with him forever?" At that point, I sort of assumed it was.

Raising a spirited child is now the greatest gift. His awareness of the world around him blows me away. Lately he's been identifying smells constantly. I smell toast! I smell sweet potatoes! I smell hay! And he's always right on. He walked into the garage the other day where the van had been running and said, "Mmmm! It smells good in here!" Ha! A little worried about that one.... ;) One time, several months ago, we were listening to some music and I pointed out the sound of some trumpets. About a month after that, we were in the car with the radio on and out of the blue he says, "I really like the sound of those trumpets, Mom." And sure enough, it was brass instruments.

And just when I thought I couldn't be more proud of him, his teacher pulled me aside after preschool the other day. She said they were talking about a story in the Bible and about Jesus. Some other four year old piped up, "Jesus only loves the good people." And the teacher said Dawson said to that child, "Oh, no. Jesus loves everybody. Even robbers." Tears sprang to my eyes. This boy. I know without a doubt, God is going to use that tender heart in mighty ways. He's going to use his ability to see people who are hurting or being mistreated when others are too inwardly focused to notice.

I know there are mamas out there in that second and third year of life with a spirited child. All I can say is hang on. It gets so much better. You won't die. Really. You will actually be alive in two years, with most of your hair still on your head. (Whether your child will be alive or not is questionable. Thankfully mine still is. It's best just to walk away when you feel smoke coming out of your ears.) Read the book. Pray that God would give you an otherworldly ability to remain calm and patient through those terrible days where everything causes an epic meltdown. Learn to ignore the stares out in public. I got really good at that ;) Get them into preschool as soon as possible! (Totally just my opinion.) The time apart does wonders for both of you and Dawson loves every second of preschool. Find another friend who'd be willing to swap kids a couple hours each week. I'm doing that with a friend right now with our babies and it's fantastic. Most kids do so much better at other people's houses anyway so they're not going to get the difficult version of your child that you have at home all the time. Really, if you're a stay-at-home-mom, a little time away from a difficult child is essential, in my opinion. I just couldn't survive those days without some time to catch my breath. Rebecca, over at Girl's Gone Child wrote a fantastic post about her spirited child.

We also use Melatonin in very small doses at bedtime. There was a long while last year when getting Dawson to bed (and to stay in bed long enough to fall asleep) would take anywhere between one and two hours. I'm not exaggerating at all. Those were some of the most challenging times I've ever gone through as a parent (besides Bennett's first eight weeks of life). We started using about 1.5mg of Melatonin after discussing it with our pediatrician and bedtime instantly became a 15 minute routine. It was a huge game-changer. I'm not suggesting you use it, I'm just sharing what worked for us. You can do your own research and talk to your pediatrician.
With so many things in life, we need to know we're not alone. You need to know (especially if this is your first born) that you will come out on the other side of this and trust me, the view is beautiful. And often quite hilarious. 

Dawson lately

Several months ago I was at my wits end with our second-born child (which wasn't anything out of the ordinary. I guess my wits don't really ever end. Because I'm there all the time). I had been praying for wisdom a lot. I needed some kind of breakthrough. I felt like I'd tried everything and had been praying over him nearly every night for the past couple of years or so. "God, help Dawson to be kind and gentle and loving. Fill him up with joy and peace." (And then one time he had a baby sitter named Joy so every time I prayed that, he'd interrupt me and say, "where's Joy?" :) God must have put a little bug in my ear (He's good at that) because this book title popped into my head that I had read about at some point and I went and looked it up on Amazon and just bought it. I don't buy books. Like, ever. If its not at my library or a loaner from a friend, I don't read it. But for some reason I was desperate enough and forked over the $9.78 and downloaded it onto my Kindle (the one I never use. Because I don't buy books. My father-in-law got it for free and gave it to me. So I don't feel too bad not using it.)

This book changed. my. life. And Dawson's life along with it.

First- let me say a HUGE apology to every mom with a fit-throwing toddler out in public who's parenting skills I was so quick to judge. Little did I know that it is so NOT about the parent but nearly ALL about the makeup of that child. We carried Bennett screaming and crying out of a public place ONCE when he was three. And I thought that had something to do with me. Ha. I needed a large slice of humble pie. By now, I've eaten more than my fair share. (I suppose that goes with the territory of motherhood, doesn't it??) Which is why I wholeheartedly agree with the statement that parenting is so much more about teaching us than about us teaching our kids.

If all of these words describe your child, please get a copy of the book, Raising Your Spirited Child, TODAY: Intense, Persistent, Sensitive, Perceptive, Difficulty Adapting (And the bonus traits--your spirited child may have some or all of these. Dawson has all of them: Irregular, Energetic, First Reaction is negative to anything new or different and Moody). (If these traits describe your child but you'd score them a 3 out of 5 or lower on a few of them, then they're probably just spunky, not spirited.)

This book helped me turn all of the negative labels I had for my child and switch them to positive ones. And to realize that all of the characteristics that made him so difficult to parent at 2 years old, will be celebrated when he's an adult (if directed in a healthy way). It also made me understand that he sees/feels/smells/hears things differently than an average kid. He literally has heightened senses, which makes loud, busy, crowded places a nightmare for him. I've learned what is likely to set off a tantrum and how to possibly avoid it. (He still has tantrums. A lot of them. But they're shorter and more sporadic. And I don't feel like I want to run away from home anymore.)

 All smiles. When he's ready:

(He started preschool a couple of weeks ago. Blogging time is hard to come by these days. And he's in 3yr preschool because his birthday is Sept. 14th) 

Life with Dawson is still very challenging. But thankfully along the way I've been learning that it's actually possible to stay patient and calm when your child is screaming their head off and trying to hit you and bite you and throw anything within reach at you. My patience goes a whole lot further these days. I still lose it with him occasionally (like when we're running late or when my husband's been out of town for the third night in a row) but God is really changing me in this area. I've also learned that its ok to remove him when he's out of control and hold him and hug him and whisper to him instead of trying to force him to stay in time-out for an hour (which I'd done before. Many times.) The balance of discipline with him is very hard but I just keep doing the best that I know how to do. And to accept judgment or advice from other moms who don't have a spirited child is fruitless. So if you are a friend to one of those moms, give her a bit more grace. And let her know that you know she has a hard job. But that she's the perfect person for it.

The biggest thing I've learned this past year is that when you have a spirited (or even just a spunky) child, you get a big dose of the hard stuff but you get an equal dose of the amazing stuff. You get a child with so much feeling. Dawson went through a phase last year where he'd compliment people on everything--"I like your hair, Quinn!", to his cousin. "I like your dress, Mom!" when I was wearing something other than sweats. "Cool trick, Bennett!" as he'd watch his older brother flip around the house. He's always had incredible manners, saying "please" and "thank-you" without any prompting. He also has a HUGE imagination and can get lost in play for at least an hour all by himself (when brother isn't around to interrupt him). He's quick to make friends wherever we go, not shy at all on the playground. But if we walk into a room where there are a lot of adults he doesn't know, he'll completely panic and freeze up. He's literally gripped the door frame with all his might before, and held on for dear life. (The complete opposite of Bennett. Bennett has a hard time being brave and making the first move with new kids, but if we walked into a large room full of people, if there were at least a couple of familiar faces or he didn't have to leave my side, it wouldn't even phase him.)

Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood has been such a great show for Dawson, because he can easily identify with the way people feel. He's extremely empathetic. One morning I was lamenting about our new table. One of the boys had spilled a bunch of water the day before so one of the boards on the table had started to lift up a little. Dawson started singing the Daniel Tiger song, "If something seems bad, turn it around....and find something good!" He's so in tune to what people are feeling around him, it's amazing. While Bennett is extremely smart, he's usually in his own little world. Dawson, however, feeds off of every emotion of the people around him. It's very important with spirited children to not let them sense your stress because they will become extremely irritable. (A bit of an impossible task as a mom!)

Once he got stickers placed all around his frame, he pointed to the row at the top and then the bottom and said, "Mom, this is the rain and these are the bow."

A big challenge we still deal with is that he doesn't sleep through the night. He did up until he was three and we moved him out of the crib. I knew it would be a hard transition with him. Little did I know a year later he'd be sleeping on the floor of our room because at least then I can get to him more quickly when he wakes and can settle him back down right away. Not always, though. Sometimes he's awake, sobbing uncontrollably for 30 minutes at a time or more. Its not night-terrors. He's just a very light sleeper and has an impossible time settling himself back down once awake. And when he's tired, he's just so emotional and unreasonable. I'm not sure why we didn't have this problem when he was in the crib. But that's typical of life with him. There aren't straightforward answers to much of anything. According to the book, nightwaking is very common with spirited children. I just figure eventually he'll outgrow it. And I'm learning to tell myself in the middle of the night when I get woken up and feel so frustrated that its an opportunity to act out sacrificial love. I continually have to give up the idea that I deserve a good night's sleep. I'm working on being selfless, even at midnight when I'm just settling into a really deep sleep. It's taken me a long time to get there. But God is gracious with me and my slow progress. Plus, I suppose this is just payback since all three of my boys were sleeping 12 hours a night by 12 weeks ;)

* Dawson loves to ride his scooter. Fast.

* He hates to lose a race to his brother. (And everything's a race.)

* He loves to go to the library as much as Bennett does and he loves to be read to. One of his favorites is Richard Scarry's, The Best Word Book Ever.

* He's a good eater and isn't afraid to try new foods (he'll always refuse it at first and then we sing the Daniel Tiger song, "You gotta try new foods 'cause it might taste good!" and then he'll always accept a bite and usually likes whatever it is and then gobbles it down.

* He still loves King Kong and T-Rex but now has a new obsession with Indiana Jones. 

* Dressing up is still his thing. (look up the hashtag #superdawson on Instagram and you'll see several of his best-dressed moments.)

* We haven't done any organized sports with him yet (I think its a bit crazy to start that before five with a child who's prone to meltdowns) but he's very anxious to start. He'll definitely be our athlete. 

I am so thankful for this boy, who stretches me and teaches me and exposes my weak spots. I am a better person now than I was before he was in my life. He has always been the child who has caused me to lean on God the most. And that is a beautiful gift.