Four. Also the number of years I have been a teacher, though it seems much longer. And four years of classroom work, materials, sweet notes from students, and posters are slowly making their way to our house.
Fifteen. The number of months Jacob turned this last week. And my how these months just get better and better. Whether trying to splash his shadow with water or mimic Daddy mowing the grass with his little bike, it's impossible to not smile in his presence. And with ninety degree weather this weekend, the return of the water bucket was a necessity.
Five. The current number of great-grandchildren Mama and Papa currently have. All boys. We almost have enough for a basketball team. We have promised some cheerleaders soon. Joseph turns five this week and my mom made him a Spiderman cape to celebrate. What is it with boys and capes? As if they couldn't get any cuter, a splash of Superhero powers makes you just melt.
Seventeen. The approximate number of times we asked Reis to share his toys. We had a glimpse into the future when the boys are older and they begin wrestling. This thought was a little scary to us. Someone then threw out the idea of the little boys fighting now, how funny this would be, and who we would put money on. Even tossed out the idea of creating babyfights.com to generate some crowds. That thought might have crossed the line.
Three point five. The average height of the boys' jumps. We allowed Joseph to jump alone and, while his belly flops (onto the hard ground) had us laughing until it hurt, we decided to assist the littlest ones in their superhero leaps.
Six-fifteen. The time that Jacob wakes up every morning, even after a long night of playing with cousins and going to sleep way past his bedtime.
Ten - Seven. The final score of the Cardinals game we went to on Saturday. It wasn't exactly Lohse's best day.
Eight. The average percent of the day that Jacob now sticks his tongue out. Not quite sure if it feels funny to him or if he just likes playing with it, but Little Man just can't keep it in his mouth.
Lifetime. The number of days I will always be teacher. A little cheesy perhaps, but undoubtedly true. I may not have a name over my door and may not have a classroom full of kids, but I'll forever be teaching my little man lessons.... some days they may be lessons about numbers and some days they may be lessons about life and all things important.