On Your Third Birthday

Jack, today you are three and I know it sounds like a massive cliche but I honestly don't know where the time has gone. It only seems like yesterday when I was being handed a wrinkled, squawking bundle with a cone shaped head and left wondering 'what am I supposed to do with THIS?!'

I'll be honest. In the early days I wasn't sure how well we'd get on. You were needy and loud. I was sadly lacking in any natural maternal virtues and had always been a fan of a long lie in. I was overwhelmed. You were demanding. And I sat back and let other people do the things I should've been doing for you because I genuinely believed they could care for you better than I could. But my confidence grew with each day we spent together and that, my friend, is when you became my buddy, my sidekick and the absolute apple of my eye.

At three you are a whirlwind and a little bit barmy. You like to collect other peoples clothing (usually leggings or pyjama bottoms) and wear them like scarves around the house. You have a deep rooted obsession with wind turbines. You insist on saying goodnight to every single child in your nursery class (and most of the staff) before going to sleep at night. The other day you told me you were calling your new toy horse Doncaster. Doncaster?!?! You make me laugh everyday, even more so now you can talk. I honestly think you are the coolest, funniest little boy I've ever met.
But you are also hot headed. Over the course of 'terrible two' there have been some apoplectic tantrums. Sometimes when you put the last piece of lego on a tower you've been meticulously building you are just a little bit too vigorous. The tower will fall and you will literally shake with rage. And if I call you 'an angry little man' you get even crosser, bellowing 'AM NOT A MAN, AMMA BIG BOY!' Yes, yes you certainly are.

Because now you sing the alphabet correctly and can count past ten. You have meaningful conversations with me, voice your opinions (yes, I know the multi-vitamin tastes 'scusting but if you'd eat your veg you wouldn't need it so much) and recite nursery rhymes which I love. I know that three will be the year when we crack the potty (maybe literally if you keep throwing it out of the door in disapproval) and when we phase out the bedtime bottle that some would argue you're already far too big for. I know I'll have to start correcting you when you call the hoover the 'hooter car' or ask for 'graby' with your 'tatoes'. Because babyhood is a distant memory now and even your toddler days are numbered. You are, as you so regularly tell me, a big boy now. And although I sometimes pine for the tiny baby that I didn't have a clue what to do with, I also can't wait to meet the person you're going to grow into.

This year I've worried about not hitting certain milestones. I've wondered if I'm 'meeting your needs' and still often feel out of my depth as a mummy. But I read somewhere that the measure of a mother is in the happiness of her children and if that's true then I think I must be doing OK. Last night before bed you told me that 'when dark finishes it'll be my birthday' and today we spent the day opening presents, eating pancakes and going to see some penguins. It wasn't extravagant by anyone's standards but you were happy. And that makes me happy. So sod the milestones, I've realised that as long as we're happy that's all that matters.

Happy birthday Jack. You really are a joy. Love you.

Your mummy xx

2 comments:

  1. Oh, this post made me cry! My little girl is 3 next week so I know exactly what you mean.
    Thanks for linking up with the #WeekendBlogHop!

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  2. Thank you Vicky, they're not babies anymore are they! Hope your little one has a great birthday xx

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