Three!

A three year old. Holy smokes. We're living with a dang three year old. Most days I can't even believe it. On the tantrumy, whiny or days peppered with "whyyyy?" I realize very much that we've arrived, but most days, I can't believe you're ours and you're already three. I'm grateful for three - grateful for your language, problem-solving, interaction with familiar friends and your ability to make friends when we're out and about. Your dad and I talked so much about traits we wanted you to have during pregnancy - always settling on adventurous, kind, and funny, and this year you've proved you're all of those things and so so so much more.

Last month, we geared up to head back to the dentist for your bi-annual cleaning, and while you loved the tiny kids' door, the games and the themed rooms, you were apprehensive about going back. As we walked through the doors, you still weren't quite sure this was a great idea, but when the hygienist called us back, you willingly followed, and I fell behind y'all and listened to you chat with her, answering questions about your shoes, your favorite color and superheroes. By the time we got to the room, you climbed right up in the chair, put on the sunglasses to shield your eyes, and let her start in on a real cleaning. I weirdly felt myself quietly falling apart. How the heck did I have a kid that was old enough to lay there so calm, cool and collected a get his freaking teeth cleaned all while chatting with the hygienist? I choked back tears and thought about all the ways you'd proved your independence in the last year - soccer, school tours, park moments and now the dentist. Every time you engage in a "regular" conversation asking questions, answering and carrying on, I find myself a little dumbfounded. I guess this is what growing up looks like - very slowly becoming less of the equation. That night I talked with your dad about your agreeable nature. It's not that you never protest or ask for more time when you're doing something you want to do, but mostly, you go with the flow. You're happily ready to do whatever comes next. You have a definite backbone (which I hope you hold firmly to), but mostly, you're laid-back and easy-going. Three years ago, I didn't know this would be something I'd value so much in you, but it's been firmly added to the list - adventurous, kind, funny and agreeable. Let's hope it sticks.

These past years have been a slow shift from playing around other kids to playing with kids and now to seeking out friends. At the park last week, we were playing when you eyed an older boy, Wyatt, playing one of your favorite games: hide and seek. You immediately rushed over and hid with him while his grandma searched for her boy. When she stumbled upon the two of you, you broke into giggles and quickly suggested, "let's do it again!" You and Wyatt took off in different directions, and when he called after you to come to the tunnel, you yelled back, "No. Come on! I've got the perfect place!" Wyatt was sold (either by your enthusiasm or your assertiveness), and the two of you sat underneath the playground equipment quietly chatting about your awesome spot as you asked him his name and age, told him yours and gushed that you "reeeeally like playing this game." I wanted to sneak in and record every word of your conversation. After that round, you eagerly darted my way ready for a drink as Wyatt called out, "Hey! Charlie! Will you be my friend?!" Turning around with your hands on your hips and face beaming, you happily accepted, and my heart jumped right into my throat. The two of you were thick as thieves for the next hour. Watching you make friends and seeing other little humans appreciate your nature leaves me in total awe. You're magnetic.

In the months to come, you're starting school, bidding adieu to your pacifiers (gasp) and will undoubtedly embark on so many more tiny adventures that feel like gigantic milestones. We can't wait to walk through all of it with you. You fill us with gratitude. Always and forever. You're a real kid. A really awesome little person.