Tank turned three, or "fwee," last weekend. If he were telling you about his birthday here is what he would say. . .

Fwee. No Two. Chorch. Cake. Hat. Nonnie. Papa. Cake. Fwee. Yaaay. Cake. Pwesent. More Cake. Eat.

Translation: He is now three, not two. He went to church on his birthday and in his class everyone wore hats and ate birthday cupcakes. Monday he went to Nonnie and Papa's and had more cake and opened presents. It was all very fun.

Happy Birthday My Sweet Boy!

At three you are full of energy, curiosity, confidence, determination, affection, enthusiasm, silliness, and humor with a large dose of stubbornness.

At three your communication is succinct. You don't mince words. If you don't want to do something you simply say, "don't like." When you wake in the morning you say, "done bed." Whey you are thirsty you look at me and say, "water." And after you have had a temper tantrum of epic proportions you get up and say, "Timmy all done skweme."

You have become quite independent. In fact, you insist on doing most everything yourself, from opening and closing doors to turning off lights, to putting the laundry in the machine to removing the groceries from the cart and placing them on the checkout counter. By insist I mean if you aren't given the opportunity to do these things you scream and flail about as dramatically as possible. I know you are thinking of me when you do this as you know how much I adore the disdainful and/or pitiful looks of onlookers.

At three you really look up to Spinner. You scream in delight when he comes in from school and beg his attention. With Bean you vacillate between adoration and irritation but you can't go to bed without receiving a hug from him.

You call our back yard the "park." I love that.

Like your brothers, you love a good round of wrestling. It is made even better when dad joins the fun. You love to ride on your dad's back and beg for more when he tires.

At three you have a bashful side. When you meet new people you try with all your might not to make eye contact or let them know you have any interest in them at all. But you do. You cut your eyes to see what's going on while pretending to play elsewhere. You pull your mouth down in an effort to keep the emerging smile from busting forth and betraying your interest and delight until finally you give in and start speaking ever so softly.

You are a fantastic sleeper. As long as you have your special blanket covering your face.

At three you can say the alphabet and recognize each letter in print. You can count to 14 but often leave out six. You know your primary colors and shapes. You have a love of learning just like your brothers.

You also have a love of food. A serious love of food and have inherited your mother's sweet tooth.

At three you still love to snuggle. And I enjoy every minute of it!


greg said...

Wow, he looks a lot like Luke

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