three

My chatty, curious, dreamy, truck-obsessed little boy is now three. Three! Every time we reach a new stage I say to myself "this is the best ever. I will cry a thousand tears when this is over." And then it turns out that the next stage is even lovelier than anything that preceded it.

This was the first time I attempted an actual birthday party, although it was still pretty small and low key. I had to make sure we didn't go to any "real" birthday parties in the weeks leading up to this because I was afraid he'd be disappointed that he didn't have an inflatable ball pit or a cake shaped like a truck or whatever. "But where's my ball pit, mama? It's my birthday, isn't it?" Sob sob sob.