Oshiolema turns 4.



Just like that, my fist born is four years old. He is curious and brave and bright and strong. It blows my mind that four years ago today, I was sitting there 23 hours into labor and begging this child of mine to leave my body and here we are. Four. 

I find myself wanting to write down 90% of what he says just so I don’t forget. He is equal parts tender and tough and has a heart to know and follow Jesus that inspires me every day. This is the year Oshiolema learned to rest. After a lifetime of waking up through the night, once we moved to Texas it just started to click. He began talking in the mirror with us every night and declaring truth over himself (“I am strong. I am courageous…a mighty man of God…”) and asking the Lord to help him rest. Watching him stand in faith over his sleep and seeing God do a mighty work in return was a highlight of this past year.

Other highlights of this age include his sweetness for his sister, his passion for books, our first year of homeschool, his love for superheroes, his curiosity and prompting questions, his athleticism and the way he wants to be exactly like his daddy.

He says “thanks mom, you’re the best” for just about everything and will tell me nearly every day that I’m beautiful-if I’m lucky its a “you’re the most beautiful mommy I’ve ever had.”

Some of my favorite Oshiolema-isms lately:

Watching me peel a clementine last week: “Wow. Mom. That gives me an amazing idea. For Christmas next year, you should make Jesus’ birthday cake with orange frosting.”

“Mommy, I love you all the way to the edge of the universe and to God’s throne and back.”

(after being told he can’t read an entire book that night:) “Mommy? It’s really hard not doin’ stuff. Like not being able to have a protein shake because I’m three. I really wanna have a protein shake when I’m three.”

“When I was in heaven with Jesus and you guys were at your wedding I missed you, Mommy. “

As O and I left for a date: “Mom, can you wear this sticker on your hand? So when you look at it you’ll remember it was me who gave it to you?”

“Thank you for the deeeelicious dinner, mommy! Compliments to the chef!”

“I KNOW! How about…”

He negotiates watching another show on the weekend or getting more of a snack or treat by adding lots of variations of “teeny” (May I please have just one teensy tiny little teeny bite???)

“I can’t wait to be married! It’s going to be so much fun! I’ll get to go on a date!”

“When I grow up and get to be a daddy, I’ll have one hundred kids.”

“Hey mom? When the sun goes down and the band won’t play, I’ll always remember you this way.” (kid heard the song once and has sung that line to me ever since. Melt my heart.)

 It is a true joy and delight to be your mother, Oshiolema Michael. You are the most special boy I’ve ever met and I thank the Lord he gave you to us. Happy Birthday.

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