Dear Bubbanator/Bubba/Baby Man/Wilhelm/etc.,

It is so hard to believe you are THREE today. Three years old. Three years ago you were tucked safely inside and now you are running around getting injured daily. While you worry me incessantly with your bravery cum tantrumness, you also amaze me with your loving and thoughtfulness. You are energetic, quick to change emotions and so easily pleased. I remember being nervous about having a boy, but you’ve changed all that and now I wouldn’t have it any other way.

This past year has been so much fun with you. You speak so nicely and clearly and you are very comfortable expressing your feelings and your wants and needs. I love that you are polite (mostly) and even though you have to say, “Sorry,” just about every other word, I like that it upsets you that you got in that predicament yet again- shows that you really are sorry.

There are a few things that I do hope go away this year, though. The lying (“Daddy said I could”) and the “It was an accident” (even when it clearly wasn’t). Those things can go bye-bye any time. You now have a big boy bunk bed, so you will be in there soon and you also should start thinking about potty training sometime before I write next year’s letter. But other than those things, Bubba, please just stay my little man and give me lots of hugs and kisses always.

Love, Momma