My little boy is not so little anymore. Today, at 12pm he will be 3 years old, or as he says, "3 units." He seems so grown up sometimes that I just can't stand it. I actually find myself grateful that he isn't potty trained yet so I can still change him. I guess I'm just trying to hold on to these inevitably fleeting moments.
I look at Donovan and try to remember Driscoe this way, and all I realize is that it came and went so fast. You blink and they are independent little 3 year old's saying the sweetest, or the most derogatory things you can imagine.
This age is so fun, but by far the most humbling. One second he is singing your praises, and the next second he is screaming 'fucky sucky' in the middle of Target.
(I still don't know how that phrase came about, but I find comfort in knowing he taught Dax and now Sarah has to suffer through the same embarrassment. Sorry Aunt Sawah!)
This age is so fun, but by far the most humbling. One second he is singing your praises, and the next second he is screaming 'fucky sucky' in the middle of Target.
(I still don't know how that phrase came about, but I find comfort in knowing he taught Dax and now Sarah has to suffer through the same embarrassment. Sorry Aunt Sawah!)
I love you so much Driscoe Barney, you have made our lives so fun and amazing. I promise I will try hard to cherish every moment with you, even the embarrassing ones.
Happy Birthday!
Love, your always proud and loving, mama
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