A letter to Noah on his third birthday

Dear Noah,

For 1,095 days of your life, I have loved you. I feel like the days come faster and faster and faster with every week. You soak it all up like a sponge and then out it comes, spilling over in bubbles of words and laughter, jumps and kicks, and colorful dots and circles on paper. And your Daddy and I watch in wonder, and giggle with your excitement.

You shine like the sun, Noah. We are so blessed to have an incredibly vibrant, happy and loving little boy. Even when you're up to no good—when that selective listening trait goes into overdrive—you are a charmer and ever so sensitive.

We have learned just how big your heart is. When a little boy at your daycare hit you with a toy, you chose not to return the favor because as you said, "That would hurt him." Just three and already you're turning the other cheek!

What I loved most about the last year was hearing your imagination stretch and grow. Your stories are both hilarious and heart-warming. It doesn't matter if we're talking about Buzz Lightyear and his evil nemesis Zurg, or if you're chattering on about an adventure your special "Rodney Dog" embarked upon—you talk with such confidence and exuberance I can't help but smile.

Another favorite of mine is how you learned to "read" this year. To some degree, you are reading—the word "Noah," "David," the number "3" and a handful of other ditties you've picked up along the way. But when you sit down to "read" books to us, you rattle off memorized paragraphs of your favorite tales, and you use the same voice inflections Daddy and I do. It's absolutely precious, and I'm certain it causes my face to light up like a Christmas tree.

And let's not forgot your "man-isms": you're a whiz at shooting your Nerf guns & bows, and you've really got a knack for smacking around a soccer ball. This winter you mastered jumping (thanks, bounce house!) and catching balls. I can already envision the endless soccer matches or t-ball games to come.

Lucky for us, you also have (mostly) mastered the potty this year! It's beyond exciting that we don't buy diapers anymore (just pull ups here and there). You've donned your big-kid undies with glee, and I'm breathing a sigh of relief that you'll be potty-perfect for preschool this fall.

Preschool. Just writing that makes my heart ache a little. It seems impossible that I'll take a "First Day of School" photo this September, but I know it's time. You already know your ABCs, numbers, colors and shapes, and you LOVE playing with kids. I know you're going to love it, even if you stubbornly tell me that you "just want to stay home with you, Mama."

And how I love you for saying that...every day, in every way. Happy birthday, Noah.

Love always,

Mama