Saturday, January 26, 2013

Three Year Old.

Technically his birthday isn't until next week but the party was today so it basically feels like he's already 3. I'm so sad about this. I know that we won't ever be raising another baby. We've talked about fostering children someday but they won't be babies. I just miss that little babes.

3 is loud and fast and demanding and funny and inquisitive and still likes to cuddle (THE BEST) and emotionally unstable.

3 is the hardest thing yet. It is a BIG CHALLENGE.

So far 3 is not my favorite stage.

(My old coworker who is a grandmother and awesome once told me when I was describing a very toddler thing that Mr. Littles did, "They're very good at their jobs." She also said, "Maybe toddler isn't your age. My age was teens. I loved my kids when they were teenagers." And that felt like I was given permission to not love everything about parenting. Because sometimes parenting is the least fun thing you could ever be doing at that particular moment.)

But then there is also this:

And this:

And all those other tiny, wonderful moments in between that let us get through the parts that kick our ass.

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