My Big Boy

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My Big BK, or as I'm going to refer to him throughout this post, my baby, is perhaps the most brave and mature almost 4 year old on the planet. Well, that might be an exaggeration. He's definitely the most brave almost 4 year old I know. Sometimes he's mature.

Case in point, we've been getting his paperwork together in hopes of getting him enrolled into headstart this upcoming school year. He's had to go to the dentist, the eye doctor, and the family doctor for checkups. He's been to the doctor more this week than he has this entire year, I think. And keep in mind that he's never actually been to the dentist or the eye doctor before. And it's been a couple of years since he's actually been seen at the family doctor.

The post yesterday mentioned how well he'd done at the dentist. I was so proud. No crying or whining or fear from that boy.

At the eye doctor today, he sat in a chair by himself, answered the doctor's questions and allowed him to examine his eyes and put eye drops in. He allowed the nurse to use two seperate machines, one to look at his eyes and one to take a picture of his eyes. He did all of this without even holding my hand. When he initially got in the chair he said he wanted me. I said I was sitting in a chair at the side of the room and would be right there the whole time. I assured him that nothing would hurt. He didn't make another noise of complaint.

I was so proud of him. It almost made me cry. He did so good during the eye doctor's examination that when it was time to take a picture of his eye, the nurse came for us. She said that the doctor had assured her that she could do the pictures because my baby would sit still for her. And he did.

I've been telling him for a couple of days what was going to happen, what he could expect at each visit. I don't want him to not know what's coming and conjure something fearsome in his fantastic imagination. I've always been honest with the boys, telling them the truth even if something was going to hurt. I think it's just better to get it over with. I developed this philosphy when my angel was going through his chemo and radiation. I never told him well ahead of time what was going on, sometimes waiting right up until just a few minutes prior because he would have fallen to pieces. He'd gone through a lot of terrible stuff though, so it was completely understandable. I even told him what was happening to him when we knew he was near the end, not in so many words of course, but I did ask him if he wanted to go to Heaven. Everything else is easy in comparison to that discussion.

Anyway, I digress....My mature and brave baby just got his brother in a head lock in order to drag him out of the corner where all of his 4 million cars are.

Oh wait.....My baby just jumped off of the back of the couch bounced off of the cushions directly onto the coffee table. No major injuries were sustained. He got up immediately to check on his toys that were laying nearby where he'd crashed.

I'm sure my little baby will be doing the same thing some time this evening. He's also jumping off of the back of the couch. It's what they do while I'm blogging. It's become a nightly ritual. They've left the cushions on the couch this time though. He probably wouldn't have bounced if they hadn't. Oh well, hindsight is 20-20.