I'm this many

Big Brother is 4 this week.

We'll have a more fun than meets the eye at his "Transformers" party (because he has inherited his parents' SFF-geek genes) this weekend.

When I woke him on his birthday with a cheerful "Mornin', Birthday Boy", he stared at me with bleary eyes for a minute (because he's also inherited his mommy's NOT-a-morning-person gene) and then his face lit up with a smile like the sun.

"It's my birthday?!"

"Mmm-hmmm."

"I'm this many today?" Holding up the requisite fingers.

"Yes, you are."

"Oh, boy! Let's go tell Daddy!"

So we did. And then he spent the rest of the morning holding up four fingers on each hand and reminding Daddy and Mommy and Little Brother and his preschool teacher and anybody else who would listen that he is "this many" today and that he is a "big boy" and "getting bigger all the time".

I suppose this is where I should wax nostalgic about how fast my little baby has grown up ... and how I wonder where the time has gone ... and how precious and fleeting every single minute has been.

But I'm not going to do that.

Nope.

Not even a little bit.

Because when this now-4-year-old was born, I made a decision to forever banish "I can't wait" from my vocabulary.

As in: "I can't wait for his first smile" or "I can't wait for his first word" or "I can't wait for him to sit up ... to walk ... or talk ... to read ... or any of the other "firsts" that moms are always so eager for.

Because I recognized "I can't wait" as the thief that it is. I knew those "I can't waits" would all-too-soon turn into "I remember whens".

So, instead of setting myself up with expectations for what each year (or month, or week, or day) is "supposed" to be, I try to just appreciate and enjoy each "first" and each phase and each day and each moment just for what they are.

And guess what? All those things you just "can't wait" for? It turns out they come anyway - right on time - even when you've decided not to stand around waiting for them.

And so, today, "I'm 4 years old" is here.

And I've decided that "I can't wait" must now be joined by "I miss" in my mental hoose-gow.

Because it, too, is a thief. If you let it, "I miss" will steal away your enjoyment of the moment, too. This moment. Right now. The only one you really have.

And, right this moment, my son is very excited about being "this many" ... and so is his mom.

I hope that it will be a year filled with unexpected happy moments for all of us.

'Scuse me, I'm gonna go make Optimus Prime goodie bags now.