Most people think that three-year-olds can be holy terrors. Mine can be like that, but generally he's nothing short of delightful. Before he gets too old and I forget about it all (which is what everybody keeps telling me is going to happen, and I'm afraid they might be right), I wanted to itemize some of the things about my little man that make me happy.
-- He's not too big to sit on my lap when I read him a story.
-- He wants me to read him a story. Lots of them. All the time.
-- He holds my hand when we cross the street. Well, usually he holds just my pinky or my forefinger.
-- He is mostly potty-trained. We're still working on that ...
-- Whenever I'm doing something "boring" (i.e. grown up), he wants me to stop and play a game with him.
-- When he does something wrong, he gets upset because I'm unhappy, not because he got in trouble (not like his older siblings, who get upset because they got caught).
-- He learns things at an amazing rate, and surprises me all the time with things he knows that I didn't know he knows.
-- He expresses things using words that grown-ups wouldn't normally put together.
-- He doesn't know how to intentionally smile for the camera, which cracks me up.
-- His natural smile is simply heart-warming.
-- He's so cute and awkward when he walks or runs around. How he can stay upright with such a big head and such short legs, I don't know.
-- When he gets scared during movies, the only thing that makes him comfortable is to cuddle up nice and close next to me. Daddy is safe.
-- Give him a toy car and he can be entertained for hours.
-- His imagination is kicking into high gear, which means he can be downright incomprehensible during play time.
-- He needs me to help him button up his pants, tie his shoelaces, and zip up his coat.
-- Yesterday, he actually said, "See you later, alligator!" when I told him goodbye as I was off to work.
-- Sometimes, out of the blue, he tells me he loves me, and I know he means it.
I love my little boy, too.