Oh my.

Yup. He's three. It's official.

I don't know where the time went, or where I was when it went there, but there it is. Wherever it is.

Before I go through the fun of his birthday party (MONSTER TRUCK PARTY.) I'll reflect as I do on his birthday every year, cry and moan about what a big boy he is, remember fondly (seriously) the day he was born, think about eating another cupcake, think about losing the last ten pounds from when I was pregnant, then be bummed about not having lost the weight, then eat ice cream to drown my sorrows of not having a baby anymore.

What a cycle.

So I'll blog, then eat my ice cream.

Because his birthday is today, I'm letting Luke play hooky from school to hang with Nana (in town) and Great-Grandma and Great-Grandpa. (I'm super jealous.) So because he was missing on school on his birthday birthday, he was able to celebrate his school birthday on Friday. I got to feel very "Mom-ish" by baking cupcakes and taking them to his class.

Please note: I am a teacher and sympathetic to the plight of the teacher with classroom birthdays. This is what I brought: mini-cupcakes. That is it. No juice, no full-size cupcakes, no balloons, banners or candles to LIGHT ON FIRE IN A CLASSROOM. No knives, no full-size cakes, no cupcake cakes, no goodie bags. No choices - every cupcake is exactly the same. (vanilla cupcake with chocolate frosting and multi-colored sprinkles.) Because it is still school. Heck, I didn't even bring napkins. They have their snack routine, I scheduled the birthday to align with snack, so that I could just drop the cupcakes in with the rest of their snack stuff.

How old are you Luke? Three! Yeah, almost. I'd rather not be reminded.

Birthday party time: 5 minutes, tops. Then they played outside to burn off the sugar in a mini-cupcake.

As I reflect on the last year, it's like I had a kid exchange. Where is the little boy from January 2010? We are now:

1) potty trained (for all intensive purposes)
2) in school - full time.
3) a problem solver. (The solution to almost every parent-induced problem: the step-stool.)
4) a joker. He thinks he is much funnier than he is. Just like I think I am much funnier than I am.
5) looking a little more like me. I like that.
6) taller. Duh. But the pants that fit in the waist are still flood waters.
7) excellent at puzzles.
8) impressive with not only knowing his letters, but his sounds. Even the two sounds of the vowels. And knowing what a vowel is. Crazy.
9) a little "cuddlier." At least he's willing to placate me a little more.
10) a little boy. Not a baby, not a toddler. A little boy. One who is *ahem* very vocal with his opinions.

And now that I am super freaked out about him being such a big boy, I will now dive head-first into my baby memories.

Tis the season :)

My little Luke-pie, first home. I think I post this every year because the memory of how little he used to be is an absolute blur. One of the few times he was asleep in the first three months. No wonder we have a picture of it. We were in shock.

The infamous "Grandpa" photo - in his little old man sweater and hat. I love it - just a little guy at 4 months old.

Luke's personality in a nutshell: He will do everything on his terms, in his way. He will not be constrained by "normal" teeth growth. He will not have his front teeth come in first. He will have his fangs come in first.




8 months, outside in the backyard when we were living in the duplex, letting him jet around in the walker. A time of containment. It was a good time.


1st birthday. Being one year old doesn't slow Luke down. He's moving all over . . . I should have seen this as a sign . . .


Luke is two. Luke loves Cars. That pretty much summarizes 2010.


San Diego zoo. Knot on his head. Par for the course. Amazed my child has only been to ER once. (*knock on wood*)




I can't believe how 2010 flew by . . . Shoot. I can't believe how the last three years have shot by. It feels like yesterday that I was swearing up and down I would "not be pregnant one more month. I refuse to have this baby in February." Or being absolutely positive I would have this kid "before breakfast. I want breakfast."


And yet, here I am . . . I can't believe I have a preschooler . . . I can't believe how independent, resourceful and sweet he has become. I'm such a proud mommy.

So stop now, okay? Three is enough.

Love you, Luke-pie.