My boy is three. He's always been such a big baby/kid, I've never really felt like he's my "baby", just, "my boy".
For the past six months, when asked how old he was going to be on his birthday, he's say, "Thomas for my birthday", then "chocolate cake".
But the day after his birthday, when asked, he "three" without any hestitation.
It truly is bittersweet.
I love so many things about him;
his ease of laughter and goofiness,
the way his hair flips out on the sides,
his need for crashing, thrashing and dashing,
his crocked smile,
the way he'll make ANYTHING into a trailer,
his sensitivity and love for his family,
his need for juice,
his soft, soft cheeks.
Just to name a few...
We didn't do much exciting for celebrating;
opening presents + eating cake...
Just the good parts.