Happy birthday, sweetheart! You are 3 years old now and still the coolest little boy I know. Every day, you continue to amaze me with your intelligence, your curiosity, your boundless energy and, above all, your kindness and affection. This was an important year for you because you became a big brother--and you have been an incredible brother! From the second Daddy and I brought your baby sister home from the hospital, you have been so loving toward her. You like to make her laugh and comfort her when she cries. You share your toys with her, even when I know you don't particularly want to share them. You like to hold her in your lap and give her hugs. You call her your best friend and you always look out for her, like the time you placed a hand on her stomach when she was crying and said, "I protect her."
You are also so sweet to me. You always tell me that you love me. You say that I look pretty, even if I've just gotten out of bed, haven't brushed my hair and am still wearing my pajamas. If I stub my toe or get hurt in some way, you say, "Don't be sad, Mommy, it will be okay" and kiss my boo-boo. You know my favorite color is purple, so you draw purple drawings for me at school and when we went to a birthday party at a gymnastics studio last month, you gathered all of the purple hula hoops laying around on the floor and brought them over to me.
I'm not going to lie, though. As wonderful as this past year was, it was also incredibly challenging because your terrible twos have been epic. You are a good kid but you can also be unbelievably stubborn, rebellious and defiant. You definitely like to test your limits and turn a lot of things (like brushing your teeth or getting into the stroller when it's time to leave the bookstore) into huge battles. And oh my god, the tantrums you throw when you don't get your way. They are loud. Hysterical. Frequent. By now, I'm sure most of our neighbors are well acquainted with your blood-curdling screams. And you are well acquainted with the timeout corner.
Hopefully, the worst of that behavior is behind us (Many parents say the threes are even worse than the twos, but they're just kidding, right? Right?). And I love you so much, no matter how crazy you drive me. I love how happy and excited you get about things, how silly and playful you are, how friendly you are, how you sing to yourself while you are playing with your toys and how you dance with abandon when you hear your favorite songs. I love cooking dinner with you (you stand on a stool next to me at the kitchen counter and ask to help with everything), chasing you around the playground and doing the goofiest things to make you laugh your infectious laugh. And I especially love watching you grow up into the terrific little person you are becoming. Happy birthday, Connor! I love you!
Love,
Mom
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