Happy Third Birthday

Jackson,

You are a big boy today – at least that’s what you keep telling us. I’ve been reminding you that you still have to go on the potty to be a big kid, but you are glossing over that fact. Potty time isn’t so exciting to you.

You’d rather spend your time on the other benefits of being a big kid. This morning’s breakfast was a big kid moment for you because I let you start taking Katie’s big kid gummy vitamins. (The real reason is because we ran out of the chewable tablet kind yesterday, so today seemed a good day to start you on the ones you’ve been begging to eat for a while now.) Just remember that being a big kid brings big responsibilities with it, besides the potty jobs. You recently got your very own marble jar, so you can earn privileges for helping with laundry and putting away dishes. It’s hard work being a big kid, isn’t it?

You make me laugh, Jackson. This is a fun age to watch, and you entertain us with funny sayings and your matter-of-fact opinion on life. You like to declare things “bad” or call yourself “bad boy,” even though I scold you for doing so. You love-love-love making anything into a gun, whether it’s a bread crust, a Cheeto, a chow mein noodle, or Legos you stack into gun shapes. The way your brain works amazes me.

I am flabbergasted on a regular basis by how you like to get around the rules or change things around in your mind. You know that the word “stupid” is not allowed in our house, so you toe the line by saying “stukid” instead. Same word, really – just a “k” sound instead of a “p” in the  middle. You made me laugh the other day when you heard the Lady GaGa song called “Poker Face.” You changed the words to “Kick Her Face” instead. Honestly, child. Where do you get these ideas?

I am so proud of the little boy you’re becoming. Your motor skills are fantastic. You are always challenging yourself physically (and me and Daddy too) by climbing on things that are WAY too big or high for you. Yesterday, you did monkey bars on the playground yourself, and hung on them just so you could try to land on your feet. You actually succeeded, too. You recently started riding a two-wheeler bike, and it took you only 4 minutes to figure it out and go off on your merry way.

You are so determined. So headstrong and focused sometimes. I keep reminding myself that is a good character trait, because you will be a world-changer when you grow up. But for now, it can be downright frustrating for me. Your single-mindedness means I can’t distract you from danger or dessert, nor can I convince you to cheer up when you’re crabby – as you are (without fail) every time you wake up in bed. You have no idea how frustrating it can be to get you up from a nap when you are screaming at me whether I stay or go. I’d say you are NOT a morning person.

But, oh! Man, are you freaking cute. I know I’m your mom and I’m biased, but I really think you are abnormally cute. Or maybe that should be “above-average” or something. I often ask our friends if they think you are cute too, or if it’s just me. They always agree that you are extra cute, and I truly don’t think they’re just humoring me. (And if they are, I hope they keep quiet anyway.) You are edibly cute, in the I-want-to-just-eat-you-up kind of way. The way you smile with your chubby cheeks and squeeze your eyes into slits and squinch your nose makes me melt inside. And when I rock you before bedtime? Oh, heaven. When I am taking the last breaths of my life, I am sure one of my fondest memories will be rocking you. The way you nuzzle in to my neck, the way you hold my face in your hands and plant a slobbery kiss on me, the way you stare intently at me and whisper, “I love you, Mommy.” Life doesn’t get any better than that. You are one big piece of happiness in my life, Jackson. And in the same breath, it’s bittersweet because I would so very much love to  see how your namesake and my parents would have eaten you up. I think they’d be head over heels in love with you.

After all, I am. In love with you. And so is Daddy and Katie, too. Thank you for all the ways you fill our hearts.

Mommy