Wilder turns 3!

Dear Wilder,

Wow, kiddo. You're 3 now. No longer any baby left there (you'll always be my baby ... I just HAD to say that); fully a boy. And what a boy you are. You go through your phases no doubt, where you try my patience hourly (I want to say minutely, but that word is such a misnomer in this instance) ... but lately, you are just a barrel of energy and fun and enthusiasm and belly laughs and one amazing discovery after another. We are gliding through one of those times right now where we just get each other. We are soul mama and her soul boy. It's pretty cool, kid.

This weekend was pretty fun. You'll likely not remember it. Maybe a snippit here or there, so let me remind you.

Friday, we went to the neighborhood family movie night (the first) up at the park, three blocks away. For the first time, you let me dress you for cold weather. A hat and gloves, no less. You loved the gloves so much you didn't take them off for like four hours. You were so very good at the movie. You actually watched most of it before you realized that most of the other kids your age were running running running behind us in the tennis courts. Then we had to get up and join them. And it was fun, but before that, just for a bit, I had you all to myself. Sitting on my lap, snuggling, sipping hot chocolate and eating a cookie. It was a mama's dream.

Saturday was your party. We threw a bunch of balls and stuff into the front yard and just had a low-key party. For days you talked about your party and your presents and your cake and something you assumed you'd be getting -- "super super cars" -- which I'm pretty sure is just any car that is cool and new. Thankfully, you got some. It was a ball. Owen, Lea, Brenden, Luke and Hank came. A bunch of your adult friends came, too, because I think they love you and because they know your mama and papa always have beer at parties. When you are an adult reading this, make sure to give them hell about that.

Last night you were so very tired, so wound up. You made me sing you to sleep. We both fell asleep in your bed just after the final lullaby.

Today we just played and played with all your new toys. Papa and I tried to help you learn how to ride your bike. It's still a bit of a challenge for you, but that has not dampened your enthusiasm for it one bit. You kept yelling "LOOK! I'm DOING IT!!" at the top of your lungs any time you made it move 3 inches. I love that about you. Afterward you let me whisper things in your ear to yell as you tackled Papa over and over again. We yelled: "Donkey butts!" "Pork bellies!" "Colorado!" "Cowabunga!" "Geronimo!" "Cowronimo!" "Gerabunga!" and, of course, "I LOVE YOU PAPA!!" until we wore him out. Oh, and ourselves, too.

This afternoon we broke out the finger paints that Aunt Tara got you and took them and our giant roll of butcher paper into the front yard. As much paint got onto our clothes and faces and arms and legs as the paper. (Thanks, Aunt Tara, for verifying the washability before buying.) We painted ourselves up like warriors and chased each other in circles around the front yard.

Somewhere in between we played a bunch of rowdy games of Hungry Hungry Hippos on the kitchen floor. You're very good at that game. You play with your usual all-or-nothing attitude toward life.

Did I mention how cool I think you are? I tell you that sometimes, and you just say, "Thanks, Mama," kind of like you know already.

So anyway, kid, it was a fantastic weekend, for both of us I think. I've never seen so many ear-to-ear grins on you. Three is gonna be a good year. I love you, and watching you grow has been the highlight of my life so far. It makes everything glow a little brighter and ring a little truer and sound a little sweeter. xo, Mama