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Almost a week has flown by and pen to paper has lacked in my dedication to my second son and his third birthday. Just like this year with him the days fly past and I am amazed and ashamed at how late I am to write this, but here goes:

Number 3. It feels as if you should have been three a long time ago, that this would easily be your 4th or 5th birthday. The way you talk and act and assert your independence I forget you are just three, just three this past week and before that only two. The year where you are not quite a toddler anymore but not yet a little boy, the transition stage of boyhood. We triumphed over potty training this year and walking the stairs solo and the fork and spoon were mastered with skill.

My little Isaiah. You were never little, not really, from the moment you breathed your first breath and the nurse took you to the scale and said, “10lbs 6oz” and the doctor and I both got whiplash turning our heads and exclaiming in sync, “What?” And all the nurses on every shift had to come see the big baby and peek in at me as I sheepishly grinned and wave because they just had to see the mother of this robust baby and everyone awed at you.

We took you home and you cuddled from the beginning and haven’t stopped since. You wanted to be near me, to smell me and feel me and know that I was there and even now in the mornings you crawl into the bed and lay your hand on my head or my side and without saying a word tell me good morning with snuggles. You ask to just sit and smile at each other; you ask people in the store if they want to see you smile and when they say, “sure” you beam your dimpled grin at them and they can’t help but smile back or chuckle.

You’re witty and sometimes over assertive but you always end the night with a kiss on each cheek and a big squeeze. You will randomly tell me you love me and you like to hold my hand when watching tv or going up the stairs even though you can do it on your own. You like to be a big helper and you dote on your younger sister. Your heart is pure gold.

Do I worry that this will change? Sometimes. I know how teenagers can be, and even boys younger than that. But I will not squash your desire to be kind or to get a smile out of people. I will always take a hug and I will help mold that independence into something productive that will help not just you but others. You have an interesting position in our family; younger brother to one sibling and older brother to the other, you will know both the feelings of scapegoating and responsibility and will sometimes feel stuck in the middle. You will have to speak louder to be heard- which you have already taken care of- and you will get to learn from a role model and be a role model.

But for now you are just three. You have years to learn and so far you have taught us more than we have taught you. It feels like you should be older, but don’t grow up too fast. Savor this year as a boy-child before you become a little boy and run off to soccer games and school. Enjoy being three.

Happy birthday my sweet Isaiah. My prayer is that this year will full of more laughter and learning. And always, cuddles.

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