Dear Asher

Dear Asher,

I've been meaning to start a blog for you for months. Or a journal. But a blog is easier because instead of reading people all the hilarious things you do, I can just send them a link. I can also write from my phone which is very convenient when we're out and about.

Today, I was getting ready in the bathroom and you were sitting on the floor playing with "Ice Batman" and a couple Buzz Lightyears. The bottom drawer was open and you were looking at my hair dryer and you asked what each button and switch did. When you got to the "cool blast" button,  you asked, "Mommy, what does this button do?" To which I replied, "That button starts the fire."
You: "It starts the fire inside?"
Me: " Inside AND outside."
Then you started trying to plug the hair dryer in.
"Asher, when you try to plug stuff in, the electricity in the walls can shock you and hurt you really, really badly."
"It can make me die, and I can never see you again?"
"It can make you die and you wouldn't see me for a long, long time because Mommy won't die until she is old."
"I want to die so I can be with Jesus. I like him, not you."
"It makes me feel happy that you like Jesus."

In the weeks since your sister was born, I've taken notice of the funny things you say. You are so smart and have figured so many things out already, and you definitely know how to communicate. You are always saying how cute your sister is, and you must have heard me saying something about her cute little bum because you say its cute too, and you give her kisses on the forehead. You give her a pacifier when she is sad, and you hold her hand in the car. I love the way you love your sister, you are a wonderful brother, and more importantly, you are a wonderful boy.

A couple weeks ago I was feeding your sister and you brought me an empty wipes container. I asked you what you had done with all the baby wipes. You told me you flushed them down the toilet. I put Iris down and run into the bathroom. The toilet was overflowing onto the floor. I panicked and called your dad, he told me to try to plunge it, so I took a bucket and started bailing water so I could plunge, and thankfully that worked. A few days later I was again feeding your sister and I hear a splashing noise in the bathroom and I call you, and then the cat runs into the bedroom under the bed. He was dripping wet and I thought about how I had given you a bath earlier and I wondered if I had left the bathtub full. I hadn't. You came into the bedroom.
I asked you, " Asher, did you throw Leo in the toilet?"
"No."
"Asher, are you lying to me?"
"No."
"I'll know if you're lying because there will be water on the toilet. Do I need to go look at the toilet."
"NO! Don't look at the toilet!"
Then you ran into the bathroom and put the lid to the toilet down and stood in front of it. We talked about how Leo didn't need a bath in the toilet (you insisted he did).

A few days later, the setting was again the bathroom. This time I was just in the next room putting away clothes I had folded, and went into the bathroom and told me you were going poop. You always tell me when you need wiped, so I just told you to let me know when you needed me and continued putting clothes away. A few minutes later I hear the toilet flush and then I hear water, it was overflowing again. I rush into the bathroom, and there you are, sitting atop the overflowing toilet, your hands in the poo-tinged water that was cascading from the bowl. I grab you, put you in the tub, then grab a bucket and start dipping water from the toilet bowl and plunge, plunge for dear life. After the toilet was unclogged, I mopped up the poo-water, and double sanitized the floor, with bleach, and then you took a shower. You were happy in the shower and you said that you were a grown up boy and that you took showers. You always ask me, "Mommy, are you going to be sad when I grow up?" I don't know where you got it. But I tell you, "I will be sad, but I will also be happy. I will miss my little boy but I will be happy to have my grown up boy, too." You are growing up too fast. It seems like yesterday I was taking you back to our apartment in Meridian by myself. Your dad was still in Iraq but I felt like I needed to do my own thing instead of being at your grandparents. We would lay on the couch together, you on my chest, and watch movies. Or we'd lay on my bed and I'd talk to you, and play with you. You would smile and gurgle at me. I'm sure even now you'd watch movies laying on my chest. Your love for me is amazing. You are so special. I love you, Asher.

Love,
Mommy.

PS. Sorry for the poo stories. But they're real life, you'll get over it.