My son, Bryce, is turning four tomorrow. My baby boy is four! I can hardly believe it. We’re celebrating by taking him to Dave & Buster’s for dinner and games. He wanted to go to Chuck-E- Cheese, but I was able to talk my way out of that one. (Fist pumps the air)! My husband and I tolerate Chuck-E-Cheese about as well as most people tolerate having a root canal, without Novocain.
Bryce is funny, smart, witty and adorable. He is charming, sensitive and has the sweetest personality. He is also a typical 3-4 year old boy, and often channels both my husband and I by adopting our less than favorable traits. (If one of us accidentally uses a curse word in front of him, he will unerringly pick up that word and start chanting it). He adores his big sister and goes out of his way to annoy her in every way possible. (Like right now, he snatched his sister’s new headband, put it on his head, and is taunting her by running through the house and refusing to give it back). He gives all of us his love equally and our family wouldn’t be complete without him. I’m incredibly honored that God chose me to be his mother and that I get to spend my life with him.
I post a lot about my family on Facebook, and my feed is usually filled with funny comments or snippets of conversations that take place around my house. So in celebration of Bryce’s fourth birthday, I decided to post some of my favorite ‘Bryce moments’ from this past year.
July 25, 2014—A conversation with my son at 4:30am this morning:
Bryce: Mommy, wake up. I need you to help me put my socks back on.
Bryce: They came off while I was sleeping. (He climbs into my bed)
Me: Just sleep with them off.
Bryce: Ok. Hey….wait a minute! When you put me to bed, I told you I wanted you to sleep on my bedroom floor all night. You left! I can’t believe you left! I trusted you!
Me: Just sleep in my bed with me then.
Bryce: It’s not the same!
(Yeah, cause as the mom, it’s better to sleep on a hard wood floor all night than in my own bed. Whatever).
July 11, 2014—Today Bryce filled the toilet with toilet paper, wrote on the walls with red marker, had multiple breakdowns over various foods I didn’t have for snacks, and then later told me he invented fun. I think I need a time out before I start losing my shit.
June 29, 2014—A conversation Bryce (age 3) had with Siri on the computer this morning:
Bryce: Bi-doo, Bi-doo, Bi-doo
Siri: I’m sorry, I did not understand that
Bryce: What did the Fox say?
Siri: That was not very nice.
Bryce: I said, what did the fox say? (with a snarky tone of voice)
Siri: You will never know. The secret of the fox is an ancient mystery.
May 3, 2014—A conversation with my 3 year old son at dinner:
Bryce: I’m done eating. I need to take a break from dinner.
Me: You can’t leave the table until you’ve eaten a few bites of your meat.
Bryce: I have to eat the meat?
Bryce: (sighs) You’re killing me Smalls!
March 26, 2014—It’s official. I will not be winning any ‘Mother of the Year’ Awards. When your 3 year old drops an F-Bomb, that’s pretty much an automatic disqualification. I will try and find a way to carry on. Good luck to the rest of you who are still in the running!
(What I didn’t say in this initial FB post was the context of how Bryce used an F-Bomb. His exact quote was, “Mommy, do you want to play some fucking Jenga?” So, yeah, no mother of the year awards for me).
March 22, 2014—A conversation with my 3 year old son tonight:
Bryce: Mommy, what is this? (He is pinching something small in his fingers and I can’t tell what it is)
Me: I don’t know, put it in my hand so I can look at it.
Me: It looks like part of a booger. Did this come out of your nose?
Bryce: Yes…and it felt crusty.
Then he walks away, like it’s no big deal he just put a booger in my hand. No one taught him this. Boys are gross.
January 18, 2014—We took the kids to see the Endeavour space shuttle today and it was a wonderful experience. The exhibit is really well done and after that you move into the hanger where the shuttle is on display. When you walk in, you experience a true ‘moment’ in time. You stop in your tracks, your skin gets goose bumps, there is beautiful music playing in the background, and you realize you’re looking at something amazing and historic, and you’re trying to soak it all in. This moment is special. And then your 3 year old decides he’s had enough of crowds and he doesn’t give a shit about this special moment and has a screaming break-down in the awe-inspiring quiet of the hanger’s entry way. This is my open apology to anyone who had their moment ruined by my son’s crying fit. Sorry about that.
December 9, 2013—A conversation my husband had with Bryce:
Bryce: Daddy, will you play blocks with me?
Daddy: I wish I could buddy, but I’ve got to work. You will get to enjoy my glorious presence, though.
Bryce: Ok, where did you hide the glorious presents?
September 28, 2013—A conversation between Bryce and his older sister’s friend, Erin:
Bryce to Erin: Erin! Erin! Erin! Erin!
Erin: Yes, Bryce?
Bryce: (awkward pause) What’s up? (said like a teenage boy trying to flirt with a cute girl)
September 23, 2013—–Bryce now refers to his 7pm cut-off for liquids before bed as “last call.”
Yeah, that’s my wild man, and I couldn’t love him more.