He Turned 3

My baby boy that is. Don't know how that happened. Just know that I'm in some dangerous territory because 3 is not a baby anymore, but this boy happens to be my baby, which means I might be tempted to baby him just a little. This is dangerous all on its own, but it's especially dangerous when you're talking about a mother and a son. The H has already accused me of secretly plotting to one day enter Bubs and me in mother/son talent shows sporting matching sweaters ala Arrested Development. Guilty. I could also see myself being very open to the idea of him living at home for maybe a little longer than he should ala Wedding Crashers. "Hey Ma! Can we get some meatloaf?! Hey Ma! The meatloaf!!!" You call it disgusting. I call it endearing.Oh I'm only kidding. I would never wish/inflict upon my boy any of the above. No matter how much I may want to freeze him as he is right now this very day in all of his sweet-cheeked, good-natured, little guyness, I know he will continue to have birthdays and that's a very good thing. For this past one, he wanted a race car party so that's what he got. My mom said it best, "I don't think I've ever seen a little boy enjoy his birthday party more!" That's also a very good thing.