I simply cannot let the day end without a birthday post. It is Little Man's third birthday today. We've been celebrating all weekend, so this particular day was more of a bittersweet reminder that my last baby isn't really a baby anymore. When I informed the twins that their brother is now three, they both clamored to "start potty training" him. (wince) They were also quick to point out that he seems to have mastered walking and talking. And thus, little brother is not a baby. He's a kid.
He's also (and I say this as a perfectly objective source) the best kid. I was so utterly and completely nervous at the thought of having a boy. Come to find out, he is hilarious, and a perfect fit to our family. I believe he regards himself more as the "third twin" than a regular 'ol sibling. His personality is just... well just what I would have wanted out of the caboose child. He's more tender with his Mama. He is (and this is purely just the tail-end of the enamor-able twos) a delight.
I have quite enjoyed having one baby instead of the two-at-a-time precedent that was set with the arrival of the girls. He asks me multiple times if I will play with him, in that adorable voice that only toddlers can produce. He doesn't have the built in playmate, though sister playtime will do just fine most days.
I love him, and cherish him. While completely freaking out about how fast he seems to be growing up.