growing up

My sweet baby Monkey isn't a baby anymore. He'll be three years old in about six and a half weeks.

THREE YEARS OLD!

I cannot beleive it. Lately, after a busy day of question after question about the weather, the tv, the baby brother, and the diets of dinosaurs I often find myself at a computer after the boy has gone to bed looking at baby pictures and old videos. I'm shocked at how quickly he is growing up.

Though we have our daily battles - I think we're too much alike for our own good - I love this little boy more than anything in the world. He is my boy through and through and I wouldn't change anything for one minute.

I love the funny things he says, the crazy dances, and the brilliant mind. Oh this kid is so smart I tell you! It just makes me grin from ear to ear.

So does the fact that he calls marshmallows, smashmellows; tennis raquets, tennis rackakets; his blankets, his blanklets; and a rhinocerous a rhineroserous.


This is my boy last summer. Can you beleive it?