Oliver is five today. As Devra says, he’s “one entire hand.” And mighty happy about it too. He’s not the only one. For weeks he’s been telling me when he’s five he will wipe his own bum. Hallelujah.

It is well documented that I haven’t slept since Oliver arrived. As a result, days are long as a parent. But the years? They fly right by.  I blinked and suddenly…

I have a five year old.

He’s an amazing kid and is making great strides every day. He is a better listener today than he was even last week. We had a long talk today (after he was sent to the equivalent of a time out) about setting a good example for Eleanor, not retaliating, being my helper in teaching her right from wrong, etc. About an hour later he did EXACTLY what I hoped he would do when faced with a tough situation with Eleanor. And he totally knew he was putting my words into practice.

For all the moments I wanted to run away during our UK trip (roundup post coming soon), that minute or two made it all worthwhile.

I am proud of him every day, and I can’t wait to tag along on his adventures in the years to come.