How big?

     Some days I look at my big boy and wonder how he got so big, and capable of doing so much. He helps me out so much around the house and with his little sister. It seems like I look over at him suddenly he is bigger, taller, and doing new things before I can blink.

     He likes to help me cook but only as long as he gets to do part of it all by himself. He can be so focused on the task at hand but occasionally he gets overly excited and things get a bit messy. It is usually totally worth it. He listens to the recipe and asks me questions about the ingredients. Someday he will be a great cook, if he can get over this "I only eat fruit and bread, maybe pasta" stage.

     It won't be long before he can really help himself to somethings in the kitchen. He already can get his own snacks but he is really good about checking with me first which a really appreciate.

     Not only can he help cook but lately he has been helping clean up too. He often needs an incentive but once he gets going he really seems to enjoy it and he does a great job. I am so proud every time, it is nice to have same help and it really does speed up the job which, I must confess, really surprised me. I thought that supervising him would take as much work as his help relieved but instead the job goes so quickly and smooth I wonder how I ever did it without him. He does such a good job, I guess he has spent a few years watching me do it, or it could be those Barcroft cleaning genes that seemed to skip my husband but got to all his siblings.


     And finally there are the cognitive and creative leaps and bounds that he is taking. Every time I see a picture that he has drawn I am amazed at the detail and technique that he is picking up more of every day. And he is so close to reading! I can't wait until he can read, I know that he will love it! We work on writing our letters and knowing all their sounds. He does amazing work in the little workbooks that I have gotten him. And he seems to really enjoy the math and reading skills that they emphasize.

     But at night when I sneak into his room to pray for him, and I pull the covers up to his chin to tuck him in, I look at that face and remember the sweet baby I held in my arms, who loved to pat me on the cheek as he nursed, whose favorite pass time was balancing on the huge cookie tin I had, and whose first word, light, seemed to happen just yesterday.


   
     So I ask him, "How big are you?" and he stands up, stretches his arms out wide, and announces, "THIS BIG!!!!", but I know, he will always be my baby boy.