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My boy is three.

The days are long but the years are short.  No truer words have ever been spoken.

Birthdays get us reminiscing.  They have us looking back at pictures and telling stories and hearing family and friends tell us how big the kids are now.  But in the everyday, we don’t see it.  We don’t see growth until we compare it to some time in the past.

But yesterday and this morning, I feel like something had actually changed right before my eyes.  Wes not only looks older, but he seems older.   He’s always been independent, but now, even more so.  Things that he was just letting me take care of because it was easier and faster, are no longer things he wants me to do for him.  Zippers, shoes and dressing are all his now.

And this kid has a sense of style.  Not necessarily what the mass might choose to wear, but he knows what he likes and he has no qualms about telling you.  Or changing his outfit if he doesn’t like what we dressed him in.  I wish there was a secret handshake or sign to give other parents as you walk through the grocery store on the days your kid has chosen to wear  cowboy boots, cargo shorts and a raincoat that says, “All him.  I had nothing to do with this”.  Mostly it’s just a nod and a smile and they, walking around with their own kid, knows the drill.  They’ve been there.

This kid.  He just amazes me.  He’s smart as a whip and wickedly funny.  He’s brave but cautious.  He’s bold, but ever so sweet.  The other day  he crawled into my lap, put his arms around me and told me I was his best friend.  That won’t always be the way, and I know that.  Soon enough (too soon), friends will take my place so for now and every minute that passes where he thinks that having me close is the best option are minutes I will cherish.

Wesley, although change is inevitable, i hope you stay you.  Loud, proud, strong and honest. Bubbling with personalty.  I hope that no matter how big you get, that your hands always fit in mine.  That sitting with daddy at the end of a long day is where you find the most comfort and that your eyes always light up when your sister enters the room or chases after you.  I wouldn’t change an in ch of you.

Happy third birthday, my (not so) little dude.

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