four years of trouble

the weekend before his fourth birthday, trouble tackled a sort of rite of passage. he attended an all-boy race weekend with his dad. one day of independence for each year of life. it was just him, his dad, and five of his favorite adults. a weekend full of cinnamon rolls, dirt showers, and dragster tire ferris wheels. after three long days, he came home cuter than i remembered him and dirtier than i'd ever seen him. and then he turned four.

four years of trouble and he still hasn't figured out how to walk. always running, usually happy, and constantly cute. four years of "all boy" and i still haven't tired of spiderman chonies in the laundry or legos underfoot.

happy fourth birthday to my (not-so) baby boy!