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!

So, my birthday was Tuesday. I am now 40. Which I understand is the new 30. Whatever that means.


In addition to the fun of having a good friend from Florida in town Tuesday and Wednesday, I also got to go out on the town with James Tuesday night. My out of town friend hung out with my kids. She also did laundry, cleaned the kitchen and pruned my flowers. Coming to visit me is always a good time! Kim took this picture of the family as James and I were heading out the door for dinner.

Over dinner James gave me a card from some of my good friends. In it was a sweet note, with a confession. They have been in cahoots with James for some time now, planning a long get-a-way weekend for me. Instigated by James, who is well aware that I am always on the brink of loosing my sanity. Once the reality that they had planned this sunk in, so many things started to make sense. Like why, a month ago, when my friends were loosely discussing my 40th with me and I said I didn't even know what day it was on my friend Marjorie shot out, "It's on a Tuesday." When I looked at her quizzically she gave me some lame reason she knew that.

They included an itinerary in my card so I would know how to pack. They have lovingly included all the things that I enjoy, namely lots of time to hang out and antique shopping.

And I plan to wear these as often as I can.

Lucchese Cowgirl Boots. A gift from my parents. LOVE. THEM.

The boys wanted to send me off thinking of them so this morning they did what they do best:

broke something. It's my prized glass pineapple. I was momentarily sad. Then I went upstairs to pack.

Dear Bean,

Today, you are four.

At four, you are eager to learn. You love school and you work very hard. You work as hard as anyone I know. You have pushed yourself since you were a baby, struggling to hold your head up or roll over. To nurse, which was so tough for you, or balance on your therapy ball. Now, at four, you push yourself to walk up the stairs without assistance, to climb the hill at Nonnie and Papa’s. You concentrate on stacking your blocks and you work hard on feeding yourself with a spoon. I'm so proud of you!

At four, you know what you like. Your personality is strong and you let us know how you are feeling. Sometimes through signs. Sometimes through words. At other times it is through your intense laughter, or your intense tears.

You have added some words this year. One of your favorites is “horse.” When asked, you say your name, your age, and sign that you are a boy. You call out “Mama” and Da-dy” when you need something. But the word that we most often hear from you is “Papa.”
At four, your Papa seems to always be on your mind. When we get in the car you ask if we are going to Papa’s. When Nonnie comes by the house, you ask if Papa is with her. If, while out in public, you spot a man with gray hair and a mustache, you call for Papa.

You are playful. You take great joy in your brothers and initiate a wrestling match with them more often than they do you. One of your favorite positions is standing behind Spinner, when he is sitting on the floor, with arms wrapped around his neck, leaning against his back. And always with a big grin on your face. You and Tank struggle sometimes. You guys are either rolling around like puppies, laughing and playing, or pushing, hitting, and screaming at each other.

You love to be outside. You are content to sit in the grass or watch your brothers play in the creek. You love to swing, screaming, “weee” with every push. You love to take rides with Nonnie in the golf cart, snuggling up against her side as she drives you through the pasture to see the horses or up the drive to get the mail. You love to take walks with Daddy around the neighborhood and you know exactly where all the dogs live. Splashing in the pool or playing in the sprinkler is a favorite summertime activity. You stay in until your fingers are soft and wrinkled.

At four, music is your comfort. You love to dance and bob your head to the rhythm of whatever is on. When you are unhappy music will normally cheer you up.

You love “Horton Hears a Who” and laugh out loud over that elephant’s silliness.

You are almost always eager to give out hugs and kisses and you love to cuddle. When you settle in beside dad or me you throw your arms back behind your head. You have done this since you were a baby.

In four short years you have radically changed our lives. You have introduced us to an entirely new world. You have taught us to delight in the small things. You have tenderized us and toughened us at the same time. You have deepened our capacity to love. You have taught us about the really important things in life.

I love being your mom, Bean, and I wish you a very Happy Birthday!!

This cutie is Miss. O and you will be seeing more of her. She stuck close by Luke all day and referred to him as "boyfriend." Huh!?

After painting pumpkins and shirts and pants and various body parts the kids - and a few parents - loaded up for a hayride.

Hayrides build up and appetite so we moved straight to cake and ice cream. This is the "back up" cake. You know, in case my experimental pumpkin cake failed.

The pumpkin cake was a hit. And so were there gifts that will occupy Luke's empty bookshelves.

Luke thoroughly enjoyed himself and I think his friends did too. It was a good day!

He had removed everything from the top three shelves of his bookcase and crammed it all on the bottom two shelves - and between the bookcase and the wall - in order to "make room for all the presents I will be getting for my birthday." He went on to ask if everyone would be bringing him a gift and if it was possible that each person attending might give him more than one gift. He was slightly disappointed with my answer to that last question.

So, I took my hand off my back and gave my soon to be six year old a hug and told him I hoped he really enjoyed his party - friends, cake, gifts, and all.

Oh come on, your two's aren't going to be that bad are they?