My baby is 3 years old today. We had his official birthday party a couple weekends ago due to family calendars and the difficulty of getting everyone in one place. Grady requested a Curious George theme and even asked his father to make an appearance as the Man in the Yellow Hat (which he did with enthusiasm and authentic Steve flare).
Now, however, the reality of being 3 has set in. This morning nothing was right in the world of Grady. He didn't want to wake up, didn't want to eat breakfast, cried about putting on his shoes. You would have thought he was turning 30 instead of 3. All he wanted to do was sit in mom's lap and cuddle. Which, in reality, is all his mom really wanted to do, as well.
When I think about him growing up it is so bitter sweet. Part of me wants him to stay my sweet little baby forever, while the other part is enjoying seeing him grow into a young man. As my youngest (and likely last) child, the reality of not having a baby any longer is hitting home. As they grow they need you less and less, making your constant presence in their lives more of an option than a necessity.
This weekend we went to my mom's house to let my boys play with Tia's boys, Hunter & Taylor. The older ones took the hands of my little ones and headed into the "forest" for some adventure. I remember hunting in those woods, creating forts and turning over rocks to see what wild species we could capture. I can see that sense of adventure on their faces - but this time around I am worried about a tree falling on them, the odd encounter with a grumpy bull or (even worse) some stranger lurking in the woods.
Thankfully this paranoia is kept mostly in check and the boys are allowed the freedom to explore, hand-in-hand with their older cousins. They emerged from the "forest" complete with swords (sticks), rare jewels (rocks) and skeletons (bones). These pirates found the booty, all right.
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