Dear Jason,

You turned four yesterday. It was a pretty good day—you got to open presents and have a special breakfast with your aunt and uncle; you rode on a real bicycle for the first time; you got to skip your nap; you went to your friend's party at Pump It Up and had lots of fun, and you were very gracious in making sure that he got to be the special birthday boy, even though it was your birthday, too.

You've been doing a lot of that lately, being reasonable and gracious and well-behaved. You do still have your outbursts, but you do seem to have left your threes behind. I love being able to talk with you, now that you're old enough to have real conversations. I love seeing you talk with your friends and your sister, too.

Speaking of your sister, when I wrote your birthday letter last year I mentioned some of the things you thought you'd do when you got to be a big brother. As it has turned out, you have given your sister lots of gentle hugs and kisses (and a few less gentle ones), but you haven't driven my car yet. I said last year that I thought you'd be a good big brother, and you are. I know that sometimes it's hard to have a baby sister, because babies get lots of attention and they don't know not to hit or bite or pull hair. Sometimes you get upset, but even then you're always sweet with Eva. It makes me proud to see the way you take care of her.

This afternoon when were watching gymnastics, you said that you were going to go to the Olympics. You said you were a really fast runner and a really good swimmer. (Then you were surprised that Mommy and I never went to the Olympics.) I don't know if you'll be an Olympian some day, but maybe you will. I love that you already dream big. I hope you can still dream that big when you get to be a grown-up.

I love you, buddy. Happy belated birthday.