Happy 3rd Birthday Charlie Boo

My darling Charlie,

When you wake up (assuming you don't get out of bed in the middle of the night, complaining that it's still dark out - which is actually pretty likely, but I digress) it will be your third birthday.

What a spectacular little boy you are. The year between two and three has allowed us to see more nuanced aspects of your personality. I always knew you were sweet, but now I know how very tender and thoughtful you are. I always knew you were fun, but now I've seen you in a fit of giggles that strikes you so hard it makes you fall over and clutch your tummy. I always knew you were friendly, but now I know how you'll strike up a conversation with any old stranger in any old place, never failing to elicit a great big smile from all around you.

Here are some things about you at age three that I think you should know:

1) You love to sing. You sing everywhere you go, and I am not exaggerating. People frequently come up to me in public places and say things like "my, my, he's quite the singer!" and it takes me a minute to realize what they mean. I have gotten so used to hearing your EXTREMELY loud voice belting out classics like "La la la La la la Rocket Needs a Home" and "Goin' on a trip in our favorite rocket ship..." and "ABC"s and "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" that I no longer hear you at all. It's sort of like when I lived next to the airport and when other people would cringe and plug their ears as a huge 747 would come in for a landing right over our heads, I'd be all "is there a fly in here? I think I heard a buzzing."

2) In stereotypical boy fashion, you absolutely adore anything with wheels. You like trikes and bikes, motorcycles, cars, buses, trucks, diggers, airplanes, rockets and trains. The great thing about this passion of yours is that it's easy to find things that interest you and, unlike your big sister, you will actually take these things and play with them. By yourself. In your room. In other words, you, my dear son, have the valuable ability to keep yourself busy. I love that about you.

3) You are the ultimate snuggler. I was so afraid that this aspect of your personality was going to decline as you grew out of babyhood, but thankfully it is still going strong. Not only to you like to cuddle, but something about that skin-to-skin contact is essential to you. You need it like water, especially when you're feeling tired, sad, or shy. Not long ago, in order to keep you from sticking your hand down my shirt (a remnant of comfort from nursing?) I began telling you to touch my neck instead. The base of the neck is now your favorite spot to hold. I am frequently choked by what you imagine to be a gentle neck caress. You evidently think that stroking necks is as cathartic for the person you're choking as it is for you - the other day when we were out with Grandma, you wanted her to pick you up but I told you she couldn't because it hurt her hand too much. "But...but I'll touch her neck," you said with such sincere conviction that it would help, "that will make her feel better."

4) You love your sister. She is the coolest thing in the world, and you want to do everything she does and you want to do it just like her. You frequently copy everything she says, word for word; her own personal echo. One of the most amazing things to me about the two of you is how often you think of each others happiness. I am blown away by your generosity of spirit toward her. Yesterday, I was at Target with you while Lua was at preschool, and I got you some fruit snacks as a treat for sitting patiently in the store. "What about Lua?," you said, "Lua needs a treat too." You thought about it for a moment and then decided with a smile, "I'll share my treats with her." And you did. Another example happened today when we were at the zoo. Lua tripped and fell on her hands, which made her cry. Later, on the way home, you leaned over to her seat and asked quietly if her hands felt better. Maybe this doesn't seem like much to you now, as you read this, but it seems to me that a compassionate and thoughtful 3-year-old is a very rare and precious being.

Charlie, there is so much to say about you that I feel like I can only touch on the tips of the tiniest aspects of your beautiful three-year-old self here. I could write a book on how cute you are, from your adorable husky little voice that NEVER STOPS TALKING, to your round little belly that leads you wherever you walk, to the diverse facial expressions you make when you're saying your bedtime prayers. What a gift you are to me.

Love you forever,
Mommy