My Favorite Little Boy Has A Birthday

Monday, December 26, 2011

I think every birthday post starts out with the words "I can't believe my baby...", but, really- I can't believe that my baby boy is another year older.

Three. This is a big deal.

Christmas came and went, and then this morning when we woke up, our favorite little boy was practically a grown up. He wakes up on his own in the mornings, between 5:00 and 6:30, and he walks himself downstairs, turns on a light, and gets to playing. After all, theres absolutely no time to waste, when you've got a brand new train table with railroad tracks just sitting there, demanding to be taken apart and put back together again.

The cutest part about Charlie's big day, was that he didn't understand that it was his birthday. Everytime we'd tell him "Happy Birthday Charlie!", he'd pick up a toy and say "Happy Birthday Lightning!", or "Happy Birthday Cranky!", as if we were playing a game? The birthday game. The one time that we tried to argue that it wasn't his trains birthday, and explain to him that it was his birthday, he burst into tears at the lunch table, and screamed until I corrected it all and said "No no, see what I meant was, its everyone's birthday today!!!".



One of the first things that he opened up, was a monster truck toy sent to him from my parents in Washington. Boy did they hit the nail on the head- he drove that monster truck with its ATV trailer up and down the window sill forever.



Theres just something extra special about a plastic thing with wheels, isn't there? I've never quite understood it, but little boys everywhere seem to speak the same language when it comes to vroom and zoom. He loved it.



And then came a suitcase full of over sized puzzle pieces, which didn't seem to interest him as much as it did his sisters (a treasure, for the girls). He dumped them out and put them back in the box a couple of times, but- they didn't chug or toot, so they didn't hold his attention.



Grammy sent some really cool stacking alphabet blocks- these was cool. Kids love things that stack in and out of each other. And these blocks get really tall. Taller than the baby even- which makes them that much more exciting. So we stacked and tumbled, over and over again. And over, and over, and over again.



Grammy and Gpa also sent a shiny new copy of Cars 2, so- I bet you can guess how we spent our afternoon.



We got him a few things too- our favorite being these wooden wheely dinosaurs. Dinosaurs and wheels... what could be better??

Oh, right- the train set that Santa brought him yesterday morning. Train set = greater than all.



Grandpa Dave really threw the confetti up in the air though, by sending Charlie train accessories. A new Cranky. I don't even know what a cranky is? But apparently Charlie does. Unwrapping Cranky was like unwrapping gold.



And somewhere within all of that- Charlie passed out on his bed with his Cranky in one hand, and his Lovey in another.



And when he woke up, we ate a delicious homemade "boofday cake". Peanut butter cheesecake, made of cashews, coconut oil, lemon, and agave- the best we've had yet. We couldn't find any candles in the cabinet, so he settled for some organic sprinkles instead. Oh the thrill of sprinkles.

Now, more about this train table...



This train table has become a way of life. Its the center of the house right now, and there isn't a waking moment that passes, where there aren't little hands touching it. Sometimes those little hands are knocking down bridges, or stealing freight cars from siblings, but- nonetheless, this is the current favorite.



Happy Boofday, Mister Charlie. You're my favorite little man. I love watching you wipe your nose after every bite you take, I love saying "goodbye, I'll see you when I come back" every time that I leave the room, and I love tucking you in 100 times every night when you cry out "cover me up", because you just want to see Mommy and Daddy one more time before going to sleep.

You're a pretty awesome 3 year old.



Tomorrow we'll watch Scrat.
I promise.

Post a Comment