There has been a bit of memory capturing going on here lately – trying to slow down and embrace the summer memories that we are creating. But there’s one thing in particular that I wanted to capture.
You turn three years old this week. Has it been three years already? The years seem to have moved much faster with you, the second and youngest child. I blinked and looked and you are this precocious little big boy – not a toddler as you like to point out.
Sometimes, I’m sad that you’ve inherited my temper and grumpiness but there is a part of me that loves your fire and conviction. You’re fearless in that way. I like to describe you as my little bulldog because you have the tendency to dig in your heels and fiercely protect your ground, all while looking super cute and smushy. Frankly, all I want to do is smush your cheeks. That is probably my downfall because I will let you get away with so many things because you look so cute! But you also have a silly, smart-ass side – you know exactly how to play something to perfect comic pitch.
You still clutch your bag of tricks wherever you go although your bags and treasure boxes seem to have grown exponentially. You can spend hours transferring your assortment of guitar picks, beads, rocks, silly bandz, jewels, pennies, etc. from bag to treasure box to an old Sucrets box to plastic container to ziplock and back again. You also have a ridiculous assortment of stuffed animal friends that have taken up residence in your bed. I have no idea how you manage to sleep there every night.
Happy Birthday. I can’t wait for my next big koala bear hug from you.