Happy 3rd Birthday Little Brother

A little belated, but with much love.

Dear Little Brother,

I’m filled with pride on your 3rd birthday at what a wonderfully bright, outspoken, charismatic little boy you’ve become.

We had a really nice birthday party with family and friends at the local park. The theme was “Wow Wow Wubbzy”, and we transformed the pavilion into a virtual “Wubb Clubb”. Amongst all of the wonderful food (highlighted by Mom-E’s homemade beer turkey (REF) and Wubbzy cupcakes, complete with melted chocolate tails), gifts, decorations, and a pinata, the biggest hit was definitely…

…Balloons.

Not only did you and your friends have fun frolicking with (and breaking) many, many yellow balloons, even other unknown children came up to us asking for a balloon. (Uh, hello, parents, please supervise your children).

Mom-E even hand-crafted a Wubbzy costume for you (and Big Brother), given your love dressing up as your favorite characters. And in typical, fickle, 3 year-old fashion, you’ve willingly wore the costume for a grand total of about 3 minutes. (Fortunately, Big Brother has worn his extensively.)

We also enjoyed a “private” family party at a local Jumping Place. On your actual birthday, I joined up with you, Mom-E, and your brothers after work, and we were the only people there. We had a lot of fun trying out new slides and jumping apparati, which we had all to ourselves, for about $10.

You’ve always loved (and vehemently insisted) that I carry you. I’d guess that when I’m not at home, I probably have carried you close to 50% of the time. Obviously, as you get older and bigger, that just won’t be feasible (especially as I’ve needed to carry Bab-E Brother). And while my Back is thankful for that change, there is a little part of me that will miss not carrying you around as much.

You are a talker. You’ve impressed many an adult with the vocabulary (and understanding) that comes out of your tiny (in the age-appropriate sense) mouth. You are not afraid to state your opinion. Like Big Brother, I will not worry much about peer pressure with you. As with all children, you do have a few idiosyncrasies in your speech. This is normal development as you “learn” English, but still funny (I shouldn’t poke fun, in 3 years your English is WAY better than my French ever was). You always say “her” instead of “she”, and “doos” instead of “does”. I can’t help but chuckle when you combine them into “Her doos that.” You also say “grirl” instead of “girl”, which also always brings us a smile. We can always count on you to ask questions. And ask them over and over and over…

Overall, despite some more clingy moments, you’re generally extroverted around others. (While being held by Mom-E or Dad-E), you’ve had some extensive conversations with complete strangers. This extroversion is carrying over to peer socialization as well. You once told Mom-E that there was a boy you like to play with at the C-I-A (REF). Mom-E asked you his name, to which you said, “I don’t know”, and so she suggested you ask him “what’s your name?” About a week later, while riding in the minivan, you spontaneously and randomly blurted out, “His name is Gabe.” I wish I could’ve been a fly on the wall for that conversation.

I’m glad that as the “middle child”, you have a strong sense of individual identity. Sure, you definitely look up to (and frequently mimic) Big Brother, and you also look out for Bab-E Brother, but it’s clear that you are your own person. I can’t wait to see how your individual interests develop—right now your favorite pastime is throwing ‘bouncy balls’ everywhere. No doubt, some more Youth Sports are in our near future.

You spend more time in costumes (usually Robin) and jammies than you do in clothes. And when we can get you to wear clothes, it takes a special session of Congress for those clothes to be pants (versus shorts), no matter how cold it gets. The moment we get home, you pretty much strip naked in the entryway and exclaim “I need jammies.” And if a single drop of urine makes its way into your underwear, your under-roos and pants instantly fly off—even if it’s right in the middle of a friend’s baptismal lunch—with a cry for “I need new pee-onts.” Lord help us when you go off to college.

You’re a wonderful son and brother, a true gift from God. You fill our lives with joy and excitement every day.

I’m very proud of you.

I love you, dude,
Busy-Dad-E