Today’s the first day of summer AND the boy is turning six. On June 1, he came down stairs and announced, “It’s my birth month!” and he’s been angling for special treatment ever since.

“It’s my birth month- do I have to put my clothes in the hamper?”
“It’s my birth month- can I pick a Netflix show first?”

“It’s my birth month! I get the last popsicle!”

The kid is turning six and owning it. Like father like son.

The list goes on and on. Kindergarten finished last month, and I have to say, not only is he ready for first grade, he’s probably ready to get a job and move out on his own.

He’s growing up so fast- I really can pass on our board books, and our Bob books, and a lot of “preschool” toys.

He can swim like a fish, and has had a blast with his first team sport= teeball.

He’s obsessed with Skylanders, and Plants vs. Zombies, and Hot Wheels videos that some guy narrates on You Tube.

And he’s still as sweet as he was as a toddler, generous with hugs and kisses and the random, “Mom, I love you” that I never,ever get tired of hearing.

Six will bring more team sports, more reading, more Skylanders and more of all the things I love about him. I think I’m liking six already.


Running into home!
Happy Birthday Sweet Boy, We Love You!


Last week I mentioned to Andrew that when it was finally June 21, when he woke up he would be five. Being born at 2:29am has its privileges, right?

Every morning this week he woke up and asked, “Am I five yet?”

Friday I finally got to say, yes, yes indeed you are young man.

We spent the day with grandparents and friends at his birthday party. We swam. We ate his favorite foods and of course there was cake. There was also present or 13.


As he was falling asleep last night he asked me, “When I wake up tomorrow, will I still be five?”

I was so happy to say yes.

Yes, we have one entire year of all the fabulous that is five.

One entire year of being old enough to reach things, but still appreciate some help.

One entire year (well, 180 days) of the magic that is kindergarten.

One entire year, I hope (and I’ll take longer) of still liking Thomas the Tank Engine and Chuck Trucks.

One entire year of being able to handle a full day of activity, but still falling asleep on the way home.

One entire year of kisses on the mouth and hugs so hard I might burst, and not being embarrassed to give them to me in front of his friends.

One full year of five.

I love it already.

And Now He is Four

It’s been a whirlwind week at the Kahuna house- last weekend we made it as far north as Milwaukee. This morning I’m writing this from Atlanta.

In between all of the travel, the Fox turned FOUR. FOUR I say!

One of his favorite things at the Children’s Museum, the Rube Goldberg machine.

He’s all about good guys and bad guys, fast cars and high flying planes. He climbs. He jumps in to the pool. Anything MaM can do? He attempts to do.

He’s our family early bird, and every day, when he realizes he’s the first one awake, he wakes me up and says, “I’m the early bird, Mom!” to let me know.

He’s been planning his birthday for a long time, and at some point, I told him we’d spend this birthday in Atlanta, at a hotel, with a pool, and we’d get a cake for him (I mean, you have to have birthday cake, right?).

As the June calendar filled up, it turns out, we celebrated with Grandma and Grandpa last Saturday, with cake.

Then the babysitter had a party for him on Wednesday, with cake.

Then at home, on Wednesday, we celebrated with cupcakes and presents.

Thursday, as we were driving south he asked, “Is my cake at the hotel?”

Really kid, you feel like you need more cake? (We went to a birthday party last Friday and had cake, had cake for him Saturday, and had cupcakes Sunday at my niece’s baptism)

Thursday we checked in, met up with friends and the kids got in the pool. We ordered in pizza, and by 8pm, he’d falled fast asleep on the couch, with no mention of cake. I thought we were officially done with his birthday. 


Friday morning, right after exclaiming he was the early bird, he asked, “Am I getting my cake today?”

Huh. Um, buddy, I don’t know.

Driving in the car to The King Center, he asked, “Is my cake in Downtown Atlanta?”

Driving to dinner last night, “Is my cake at this restaurant?”

Thankfully, Gigi’s cupcakes was three doors down from the restaurant. I verified that a cupcake would count, and that this, indeed, would be his LAST birthday cake until he was five.

He concurred.

And really enjoyed that long-awaited birthday cake in Atlanta.

Happy, Happy Birthday, my sweet, sweet boy. May you always be so relentless in getting what you have your mindset to!