your thirty-fifth month

There was a big birthday looming on the horizon.

With a birthday in early February

it always kind of felt like it crept up on us,

after the festivities of Christmas and New Year.

It was so hard to believe that our baby boy was about to turn three.

Three seemed like such a milestone rage to us,

the real end of the baby and toddler years

and the beginning of just being "a little boy."

But the truth was

that you had already left those baby and toddler traits behind

a while back now

and were every bit the little boy already.

You were so big, so clever, so sensitive and so understanding.

So unrecognisable from that baby we had brought home from the hospital.

For the first time you really understood

and were excited about it being your birthday.

You were already telling us that everyone would have to sing

and that you would blow the candles out on a rainbow coloured cake.

If we asked you what you would like as a present, 

you said you would like a bike,

or some books.

You always said you wanted books.

You were obsessed with them.

You had absolutely loved your third Christmas

and the magic of the whole thing had been so alive for you.

The whole thing had excited you no end,

from Father Christmas coming to visit,

to looking out for pretty Christmas lights on houses,

from enjoying Christmas movies in your Christmas pyjamas,

to popping crackers and wearing paper hats.

You were so excited by every single present,

wanting to play with each you, read each book and try on each new item of clothes.

And each present was met with an enthusiastic "Oh thank-you" from our polite little man.

You were continuing to be the most amazing big brother ever

and welcomed your sister into your play,

included her in stories

and asked for television programmes and DVDs

just because you knew she liked them.

You loved to make her laugh

and had quite a repertoire of things now

that you knew you could do to earn a giggle.

And you would get so upset whenever she cried

and would tell us in a panic that she needed a cuddle. 

Your imagination was growing all the time

and you loved to pretend at being different things and people.

Lots of your Christmas presents had fed your imaginative play

and you would often play at being a doctor now,

or a chef,

or a daddy.

You loved dancing too

and would sing and dance around all the time;

you were quite the little performer,

and your renditions of certain songs were quite the party piece.