There is so much I want to remember about 3 and a half year old you.
I want to remember how you wake up every morning and jump right into bed with me to snuggle before the day begins. I want to remember how you constantly hug and kiss "your baby" and try your best to make her happy and safe. I want to remember how you come up with the most fun, smart and creative stories while you play. I want to remember your "jokes" which are really just scenarios that you think are hilarious, "Mama, there is a GRANOLA bar on a TRUCK, isn't that funny?!".
I want to remember how quickly you soak up information. You love to learn and you immediately start using what you learn. You are a good problem solver and you often offer a solution if Papa and I are trying to figure something out. You love to rhyme, tell stories and figure out what letters words begin with.
I want to remember how you love to jam with Papa and how you now can easily keep and change a beat along with the music you are listening to. I want to remember what a great dancer you are.
I want to remember your compassion and desire to help when our family was feeling sad about your Grampy's illness. When we were all gathered around him in his bed, you went around the house collecting pillows to make him more comfortable.
I want to remember how you love to snuggle with me in our hammock and how we read piles of books or pretend we are in a ship (with Maggie as our first mate, of course!). I want to remember our special Valentine date and how much fun we had getting dressed up, eating ice cream, talking and playing games together. I love hanging out with you.
I want to remember how we easily hug and make up after the hard days and how we say "I love you" without holding grudges. I want to remember how when Papa and I acknowledged how hard it must be sometimes to be "3", you said "No, it's not hard at all, I'm just learning new things."
I want to remember how you accidentally fell asleep on me a couple of times in the past few months and how even though you are looking so much like a big boy these days, you still fit quite nicely in my arms. I want to remember how you love and look up to your Papa like no one else. He has first place in your heart and I hope you come to know how he shows such a good (albeit imperfect) reflection of how big and unconditionally God loves you, too.
You are wonderful.
I love you,