THREE

I can't believe it.  My sweet firstborn is now three years old.

I'm freaking out a little bit.

It seems like yesterday I was meeting him for the first time.  He wouldn't stop crying after he was born and it just about broke my post-birth-new-mama heart.  Then I started nursing him.  That quieted him down real quick!  My boy has always loved to eat!

Gabriel has fully embraced being three.  He's been talking about his "happy birthday" since Drew's birthday in October!  He learned how to hold up three little fingers and has been informing everyone, "I be hee on my happy birthday!"

Around the middle of April, I noticed a definite change in his behavior.  He stopped acting like a toddler and started acting three.  Even his teachers at MDO noticed it.  He has grown more independent, more vocal, more decisive, and more argumentative.

This morning, he told me, "I get socks and shirt and pants my own self."  Despite misgivings that he even knew what drawers to look in, I let him do it.

He came downstairs a few minutes later with two pairs of socks, swim trunks, and the matching shirt.  I laughed and showed him that it was a swimsuit and he traipsed back up to try again.  This time, he returned with a t-shirt and boxers.

After explaining to him that the boxers were really underwear ("No, they are not underwear!"  "They are boxers, like Daddy wears sometimes.  See?"), he tried one more time, successfully retrieving a pair of denim shorts.

Gabriel is growing up.

And I'm not sure if I'm really ready for a preschooler.

Around 2 weeks old.

Eight months old.

First birthday.

Nineteen months old.

Two years old.

Two-and-a-half.

THREE!