Three.

Three.

This post has been a tough one for me.

He’s three, ya’ll.

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I’m not quite sure why it’s been difficult. I didn’t think that I was sad that he’s growing up and checking off years one, two, and three quicker than quick…but maybe I am – not sure. It feels more nostalgic than that.

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The night before his birthday, he crawled into bed with me extra early and snuggled up so close. He’s always been a really good snuggler. As I traced my finger down the bridge of his nose and marveled once again over his long eyelashes resting on those cheeks, I traveled back in time to the night before his birth day. I didn’t sleep then either.

What a night that was. Hank was snoring. Holden was asleep on the floor in our room and he was snoring. My mom was asleep in Holden’s room and she was snoring. My mother-in-law was asleep in the loft/office and she was snoring. And one of my sister’s was asleep in the guest room and she was snoring. (I won’t rat out which sister that was, but she knows. Ha.)

I snuck downstairs about 2 a.m. and laid down on the couch to sleep. The blinds were all open in our living room, and my up-the-hill neighbor was up with every first floor light on, making our living room about as bright as day and I told myself that I was too tired to get up and close all of those blinds. So I listened to the Snoring House and eventually watched the sky turn pink, then orange, then lilac as the sun popped up and over the ridge to welcome our son’s birth day.

When he was born, it was dark again and pretty quiet in the room, and as I reached for him I burst out laughing because he looked just like Gollum. Lord it was awful. He was so lanky-legged and buggy-eyed that I though I’d given birth to a tiny old man. Ha. But I loved him fiercely, and I could not wait to love him even more as the days went on.

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We had him on his particular birth day since the next particular day would be Hank’s birthday, and I’m a big believer in everyone in the family having their very own special birth day. Ewan, however, was not happy this year that we immediately shifted into Hanks birthday on the following day, and defended his right to own the birthday banner still hanging along with both balloon bouquets. It was a little alarming.

And now, thanks to a completely awkward (or nonexistent rather), segue, we arrive at his party.

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The guys at the CrossFit gym graciously let us take over and stream flags and draw an obstacle course on the floor and have cake and candy and presents and milk. I think in that exact order.

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The hopper balls were a big hit, although the small fry needed a little lift to really get his going.

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The other kids were on their own.

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I told them all that it was a race, but I was so caught up in the fun that I never declared a winner.

We had a piñata, which was the short stuff’s very favorite thing.

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BTW, they don’t make those things hittable anymore. They have strings to pull that opens the secret compartment. Safer, sure, but not nearly as much fun nor does it require having a first-aid kit handy. Bummer.

After much deliberation and study over which string to pull, this dude made a commitment and totally nailed it.

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It was mayhem and dog piling and floor sliding and pocket stuffing, and after 2.2 minutes, there was not one stray piece of candy anywhere. I’ve never seen kids clean up that fast ever. It was like an 8th Marvel of the World.

With a nice sugar-induced state of mind descending on the masses, we quickly tied balloons to their ankles and let them stomp the yard.

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The winner of that one was our only girl. She was so smart and strategic and I totally paid attention to the winner of that game. :)

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And then, I had a little tug on my pants leg from the likes of this guy…

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Who sweetly asked if could please please PLEASE open presents and eat cupcakes now.

Absolutely.

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And yes, the birthday throne at the CrossFit gym was a box to jump on. Perfect.

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It was, I might add, rather glorious.

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Happy Birthday, Ewan. You are, in fact (and in a completely non-creepy way), my precious.

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And P.S. A HUGE thank you to my friend, Mara, for taking over my cameras and snapping pictures like crazy. Almost every one of them was taken by you, friend, and I thank you thank you thank you!

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