You love your cowboy jeans, and for some reason neckties. You love to play with your wedgits, and your favorite birthday gift was play-doh, of all things. You wanted Cici's pizza for dinner, to play air hockey with Daddy, so that's what we did.
You are a kind and protective big brother to little Betty. You like to "play bedtime," and you "read" her a book, tell her a story, pray with her, and snuggle her. Just like mama does with you both.
You have lots of questions about God. You try to think of things that God doesn't have, things you love that won't be in heaven, information God doesn't know, or things that are bigger than God. You haven't come up with anything to stump Daddy yet. I hope you keep asking.
You don't like reading or cooking or snuggling with mama quite as much as you used to, and I'm seeing glimmers of a "big boy" who wants to come out. That big boy wants to run around outside with the goats. I'll admit to bittersweet feelings about that.
You had a snake party. You had fun.
Happy birthday, Jonas. I love you.