Monday, March 24, 2008

36 months of Devil

Today is a banner day for you kiddo - you turn three years old today! This is the first birthday you've actually really been aware of. I blame the long string of birthday parties last summer when you first got it into your head that this birthday thing might be a pretty good gig. Since then, you've been off-and-on obsessed by the entire concept and periodically would run down the list of birthdays that had to occur before we got to yours (Mama's birthday, then Boo's, then Daddy's birthday and then Devil's birthday!) But yesterday it finally arrived.

Since you have not had the benefit (misfortune?) of my blogging since your early days, lets do a quick photographic rundown:

First there was this,



And then at one year, this:


By two you had discovered the joys of talking and were happily going on and on in a more-or-less intelligible fashion, although linear thought was not one of your strengths.


Now you are becoming your own person with a vengance, and it's both thrilling and slightly sad to watch. You love books and animals almost without measure, which thrills your parents (who are both somewhat bookish and animal-friendly themselves).


You've suddenly discovered the pleasures of your own company, and are not shy about indicating when you are channeling Ms. Garbo and would like us all to just bugger off for a bit please (although thankfully you don't use that exact phrasing).

You like to serenade us in the car with your own interpretations of popular children's songs. We knew you liked singing when you busted out with a punk rock version of "Frere Jacques" at about 26 months, but your freeform interpretations of "The Wheels on the Bus" are not to be missed.


In short sweetie pie, you are an absolute delight, even when you are being a royal pain in the ass. You are sweet and giving and funny and wonderful. I see myself in your not-insignificant grumpiness when we get you out of bed in the morning, and your Daddy in your insistence on everything being in its proper place (and the tendancy to eat the same thing for breakfast. Every. Single. Day.)



I love you more then I ever knew was possible.

Mama

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