Dear Miles,

You turned three today, buddy boy. You love balls, loud noises and smashing towers. Shoes that stomp make you giggle, as does hugging your baby sister. You shout, “I no eat it!” as you frantically throw my dark chocolate wrapper behind you with sticky sweetness smeared over your face. You’re a pretty good natured guy who is too curious for his own good. Your ability to go from zero to epic disaster is a bit legendary and I can only pray you outgrow your curiosity based destruction asap.

The adoration for your new baby sister radiates from your very being. I often get frustrated with your manhandling and constantly talking loud in her face, but I do my best to remember to show you appropriate expressions of love instead of simply shouting, “Don’t touch the baby!”

Some days, I despair of you ever getting along with your big sister. Then, I see you valiantly defending her to a child three times your size on the playground. While I explain to you that we must use our words and not our body, I inwardly cheer you on.

This year has seen some big changes for you. We went gluten free (no more beloved crackers or sandwiches!), moved to a new house and your baby sister was born in our living room. You’ve taken all of these changes in stride, your mischievous grin never fading.

I’m fairly convinced you will be the child to cause me to prematurely gray. You constantly keep me on toes and I know you’ll give me a run for my money this year. From the playground, I’ve learned I have to just sit back. More often than not, you succeed at what I think you won’t be able to accomplish. You are constantly climbing to new heights, making friends and giving me heart failure. If I don’t interfere, you meet your goal and I am amazed. By now, you’d think I would have become accustomed to your success but it never grows old. More often than not, it blows me away.

Happy birthday, my sweet boy. May you always be able to eat cake ‘n’ eggs for breakfast, cake ‘n’ hotdogs for lunch and chicken ‘n’ cake for dinner on your birthday.

Much love,

Mama

And because I’m terribly nostalgic, here is a link to his birth pictures.