Ari has grown really willful. It seems like every meal, bedtime, getting dressed, going to school or any transition involves a power struggle. I know you are supposed to give willful children like Ari choices, but oftentimes, I am too sleep-deprived to do it. Instead, I dress him myself, or carry him out, kicking and squirming in my arms.

But he is in a fun stage, too. I love that I can hold a conversation with him and oftentimes find myself laughing at his words and actions. Who knew I’d have a comedian in my house.

The other night, we were reading a story about animals and Ari learned that we humans -- GASP! -- are animals called mammals. “That’s because we drink our mother’s milk just like Eli, the sheep and the cows,” I told him. He was grossed out. “No. Eli is a mammal because she drinks your milk. But I am a boy and I drink juice!” he told me.

He added: “You are silly mom. We are not animals.”

“Yes, we are. Ask Papi.”

The next morning, we jointly asked his father who confirmed we are animals called mammals. Ari was doubly embarrassed, especially when I reminded him that he breastfed once, too. “No, I drink juice!” he told me. My husband and I were having fun at his expense. “Good morning, mammal!”

“I am not a mammal!” he shouted back.

“Ask your teacher,” we answered. Hee, hee.

He is also interested in our personal history, which is sweet. He likes to hear how I had to wear gloves to carry Shitra, a hedgehog DH and I had when we were college students in Boston.

In this sense, four is a fun age...