Growth & Appearance: Your eyes are without a doubt hazel, but can easily be confused for brown. You have the same eye color as both of your g’mas. You’re getting taller and taller and lankier and lankier. Your hair is in your eyes constantly and we’ve decided to grow it out once and for all. Otherwise you’d be at the hairdressers every month. Your knees are scabbed often and you refuse to stop licking around your mouth so it is red and chapped.
You wear a size 8 shoe, size 3T clothes.
Eating: Your eating has gotten better and better. You’re more willing to try new things and mealtime is peaceful and easy most every night. When you don’t want to eat something, however, you say it makes you sick. It goes like this, “Hooper, wanna try some of Mama’s fish?”, to-which-you-say, “Fish make me sick, Mama”. But more times than not, you’ll eat whatever we are eating.
You like to steal sweets off the counter and hide under the kitchen table or the desk in the office and eat them.
You state your favorite food is “french fries”.
Sleeping: You like to take a toy with you to sleep these days. Actually, more times than not, you take a book. And when you wake up in the morning, whatever toy or book you brought into bed with you is in your hand.
You refer to your top bunk as your “firehouse” and like to take an odd mish-mosh of stuff up there; the other day I removed a paint roller, a dvd, and a ton of books… all things you said you needed for your firehouse.
You don’t nap everyday, but when you do it’s around 4pm and we wake you up – if you don’t wake up on your own – around 6:30. You’re waking up a bit earlier these days, sometime in the 7 o’clock hour. You go to bed around 8:30.
Talking: You tell me you love me at least twenty times a day. Sometimes I’ll get three I love you’s before you even get out of bed in the morning. You have a big heart and love expressing what makes you happy.
When I pick you up from preschool, you spend the entire 10 minute drive home repeating, “Mama always come back” (this is what your teachers reinforce at school).
You call us out for grabbing your butt. I think your teachers at school must tell you that it’s not okay for anyone to touch your privates, which is great, except that I like grabbing me some tush. The other day, you told me to “stop touching my ca-ca”. Apparently you think part of your butt falls off every time you poop because ca-ca has become synonymous with butt in your mind.
You started grabbing your balls the other day when you were going potty and asked me, “Waz dis Mama?”.
You call anything with a siren a “fire truck”, including the Time Warner Cable vans that have the one honky little round siren on top as well as the DWP trucks, the parking enforcement vehicles, and the utility vans.
You often ask what things are only for me to tell you and you, in turn, insist that I’m wrong. Like when you pointed to an RV, asked what it was, and then argued with me insisting that it was not an RV but instead a “baby bus”. You used to get very angry when I told you an ambulance was an ambulance and not a “baby fire truck”. Now you call them “ah-un-ence”. It’s one of my favorite words of yours.
When you hear me scold Van you like to take it upon yourself and implement whatever punishment you think he deserves. You refer to yourself as the “po-ese-man” (policeman) and I have to remind you often that Mama’s in charge.
You made up your own word, “wolf-uh-dyha”. We interpret it to be synonymous with YOLO. For example, we’ll say, “Hooper, no more hitting your brother” and you’ll respond with, “wolf-uh-dyha”. Or when I ask you, “Hooper, why are you taking your pants off?” and you respond with, “wolf-uh-dyha”.
You often ask, “Waz dat?”. Then I answer by telling you it’s a street cleaner truck (or whatever it is) and you always, as in every time, follow it with an “Uh huh, I like street queener truck” (or whatever it is that’s identified).
You use the word “real” in lots of funny ways. Like when I asked you if I could sleep in your bunk bed with you and you replied, “no Mama, you real too big” or when I told you we need to get ready to go and you told me you’re “real too busy”.
You refer to your toy wrench as a “dog ferner” and when we ask you what a “dog ferner” is, you told us it “picks up dog and down”.
You pointed out a taxi the other day and went on to say that “taxi make me happy, Mama”.
When you don’t want to do something, you refer to whatever it is as something that’s going to “make me sad”. Like when I say it’s time to go to the store and you say, “No Mama, make me sad”.
You refer to picking your nose as “queening” (aka cleaning) your nose. You “clean” your nose several times an hour. I caught you once wiping your boogers underneath the table. When I asked you about it, you replied by saying, “I keep my boogers safe”.
We can no longer have discussions between the two of us without you listening in. The other day I told Papa that you seemed tired and that I thought you needed a nap. Normally you wouldn’t respond to a conversation you were not involved in, but this time you quickly got up and said, “no, not tired Mama. No nap”. The same thing happened the other day when I was listening to the morning radio and the hosts were talking about some guy who was hoped up on goofballs (aka pills). You started laughing and proceeded to refer to your “g’ma Bic” (who was not in the car) as a goofball.
You use your hands a lot when you talk, like holding the palms of your hands up to the sky when saying you “don’t know”.
You’re still big into the world of make believe. You would refer to Sarah as your “fire dog” (gah that hurts to have to change to past tense) and are completely obsessed with being a firemen. You love to watch the steam poor out from the side of the house when I’m doing laundry, throw your fireman hat on, and go out and “fight” the “fire”. You refer to yourself as “Norman Price” (a character on fireman Sam) constantly. You also like to pretend you get stuck, like on the top of the sofa, and yell for fireman Sam to come rescue you. You have a “fire chief” jacket at your Nina and Geepaws house that you wear the majority of the time you’re there.
Your idea of paper airplanes involves crinkling a piece of paper and throwing it into the air.
You’re sweet and sincere. You apologize for things that are clearly not your fault. Like the other day when I dropped something and you apologized for it. Or the other day when Van threw a toy in the toilet and you apologized for it. Or when you threw up all over the bathroom floor and continuously thanked me as I cleaned it all up. One morning you woke up with poo in your pull-up (which is so rare these days) and you thanked me for cleaning your butt. You also thank me for picking up your toys. You say “bless you” even if I sneeze from the other room. Your teachers at school describe you as being very sweet… except for when you’re not and on those days I’m told about your pushing / throwing / hitting antics. But those days are few and far between.
You can hop on one foot and have general knowledge of the game “hop scotch”.
You still threaten to pee on me every time you go to the potty. Actually it’s not so much as a threat as it is an expressed desire. You’re clearly eager to pee on things and put that little hose of yours to the test.
You have a new affinity for monsters. You like to go on hunts for monsters and when you come across a dark area or a large crack in the ground, you like to pretend there is a monster hiding there. You love the book “There’s a Nightmare in my Closet”.
You remind us that we need to cover our mouths when we cough.
Favorites: You LOVE this claymation show called “fireman Sam”. You love all things fireman related, really. You also love watching real life youtube videos of garbage trucks or construction sites. You love Sarah; You love hugging her and kissing her and cuddling her and when she’s not in the room, you ask where she is. You refer to her as “my doggy”. (And I’m not even going to change that last part to the past tense now that Sarah is no longer with us, because I had written this before her untimely death and I can’t stand to change it.)