Five.

Isaac turned five today.  I know it's cliche to say, but I really can't believe he's five already.  I know this would be an appropriate time to get misty about how fast life is flying by with this very special boy, but the only thing I'm sad about is how much closer I'm getting to thirty. Ha!  In all honesty, Isaac just keeps getting better with age.  His little personality is getting bigger.  His sense of humor is impeccable.  And he's just a lot more fun than that baby and toddler that didn't sleep through the night or talk or even look at me a lot of the time.  He gets stuff.  Isaac over heard Andrew and I talking about Neil Armstrong's death the other day, so today while Skyping with his grandparents he decided to start a conversation on that topic.  "Did you hear about that space guy who died?  That was sad."  I kid you not, that came out of my five year old's mouth.

Also, I'm really glad that I can finally buy toys that have no purpose other than being toys for his birthday.  I am no longer constantly thinking about sensory input, learning skills, etc.  Here he is playing with the new cement mixer truck we got him for his birthday.  (Ignore the blinds ruined by our very naughty dog.)  Pinto beans from the bean box double as concrete to be churned and pushed down the chute.  He doesn't need a whole sensory room anymore and all of his toys have been downsized to fit into his bedroom.  Life is simpler at five, and for that we're all grateful.

Don't get me wrong.  There are still plenty of things we are working on.  A mainstream kindergarten class of 19 has proved a challenge for Isaac.  There is currently a packet sitting on my coffee table waiting for me to finish filling it out so that Isaac can be evaluated for ADD.  Hey- we knew this day was coming.  I'm realizing how much we're used to his quirks and compensate for them.  Just the other night he was getting ready for bed and I told him to go pee and get in bed.  He pulled down his pants, stood in front of the toilet, looked up at the lights above the sink and said "Oooh! Let's count those lights!"  and totally forgot what he was supposed to be doing.  The fact that I was still standing there after I told him to go pee proves that I had a feeling he might get distracted and need a reminder.  Compensating is automatic for mothers.  I think he'll grow out of it, because Andrew and I were a lot like this as kids, but our great special ed service lady just wants more info on the best way to help him function and get the most out of school right now.  Fair enough.  I'll take it.  PDD-NOS, ADD, or whatever else gets slapped on a paper about my kid for school purposes has very little to do with who and what he is in our lives.  The word for that is: Everything.  We love you, little man.