Dashle D.-- 3 on the 3rd of January

To our boy who has yet to wear his Lightning McQueen underwear longer than 30 minutes without an oil change:

You are the epitome of "boy."  You grunt, holler, and growl. Your favorite possessions are trains, planes, and automobiles.  You love the sound of sirens, horns, and whistles.  You don't do handshakes. You only give hard high fives.  You jump onto everything and off of everything.  Sometimes you discover that perhaps jumping isn't the best method of transportation.  The other day you jumped from the sofa table to the couch and back again. Sadly, you didn't land on your feet.  Your shins paid the price.  You are Dad's boy. You must do whatever he is doing. I love that about you. I understand fully your gushing affectionate for him. I feel the same.  Truth be told I relish the days your sisters are at school and I can have my boy time with you and Coy.  I suppose I enjoy it so much because this is the only time you will openly admit, "I love you, too Mom."  Your mastery of the English language in the past couple of months has really taken off.  You say memorable phrases like:

"That's too lots."
"Mom, can I just have a couple of snacks?"
" I don't want breakfast. I want treats."
"The dragons are coming!"
"Quiet! There are monsters in the house!"
"Addie, I want to show you something cool in my bag."
"That's pretty awesome!"
"Oh! Man!"
"Hey! Guys! What's up? How's your day?  Give me a hug!"  (standing in the doorway as Emery and Addie arrive home from school).
"Mom, don't let Coy get my cars, okay?"
"Dad let's go play soccer ball!"
"Mom, can I go to the YMCA?"

If you see a puddle you jump in it.  If there is a mound of mud your feet are caked with it before I can tell you to steer clear.  You like rocks...lots of rocks and you like to throw them. Sticks are also a favorite and somehow you know they can be used for gun or sword play.  You run EVERYWHERE.  Now that you're 3 you've also decided friends are an okay thing.  You ask every day to go to Anika's house or to play with Charlie at the YMCA.

Your two best buddies, (Charlie and Anika) attended your reverent birthday bash (your big day fell on a Sunday this year).  Actually, it really wasn't reverent at all. Whoops.  Blame it on your adult best bud, "Trabis." That's how you pronounce his name anyway. He spilled his jelly donut on the floor and it threw everyone into a raucous laughter.  Sadly, I have been demoted to #3 on your list of all time favorites. If it isn't Dad then it has to be Trabis.  If it isn't Trabis, then you'll settle for me or a piece of candy.  I had gotten you the most decorated and delicious looking donut out of the 2 dozen purchased from Jolly Pirate Donuts.  You apparently didn't care about sprinkles or creamy white frosting.  You started throwing a fit.  I despaired.  You didn't want a donut.  You did.  But, you wanted a chocolate one.  Your birthday kicked off a new stage of more independence especially in the category of "choice."  (Why can't you choose to use the big boy potty?  That sounds like a nice choice to me).

I was trying to be frugal this winter.  You had to wear Addie's old PURPLE boots with fur on top.  You didn't care.  You were just glad to go play in the snow. We took you sledding for the first time a month ago.  The wind had a frosty bite that day, but you persevered. You weren't fazed. You kept sliding down and climbing back up the hill and then you were mad when it was time to go home.  Now the snow is gone and the rain has come. It has been wet and you still don your purple boots without a care in the world.  This is why we love you.  You do what feels good and makes you happy.  Since your 3rd birthday you have tried harder to be more obedient and when you say in your sweet little man voice, "Okay, mom" my heart flutters.  Nothing makes me happier than immediate obedience.  Try to remember this for the future.  Your temperament is becoming more even and your outbursts are minimizing.  This is a fun time for Dad and me.  You are moving from baby to toddler to big boy.  And yet it is surreal to us that you are no longer our cuddly little cherub anymore.

Your favorite song is "I am a Child of God."  You love to count to 20 and back down again.  When you get to 5-4-3-2-1 your voice becomes louder and at the end you shout, "BLAST OFF!"  This is you Dashle boy.  You run around the house all day delighted by the simplest things which catch your attention.  You throw a piece of tissue in the air and shout, "Wee!"   You climb a few steps on the stairway, count to three and jump with a "Hee-Ya!"  Your dimples are large and your expression bright.  Life is exhilarating to you!  Your zest for living inspires all of us to find joy in what we have.  Our family life wouldn't be as fun or fulfilled without you.  We love you sweet boy!    Happy 3rd Birthday!