Happy Birthday, Jude!
One of my gifts to you this year is to have your monthly letter published on the actual day of your 36 month (read: 3 YEAR!) birthday. It’s a small gift and one that you might not really appreciate until you’ve grown up (if then), but I’m doing it because you deserve it. You deserve to be put first– ahead of laundry and dishes and other sorts of cleaning–on your birthday. So here it goes.
The past three months have been super duper incredible, Jude. Back in March, Papa and I got you a Strider PreBike as an early birthday gift. At first I was nervous because you didn’t quite seem to understand how to sit down on the bike’s seat and make the thing go. As I’m sure you’re well aware, your mama is a needless worrier, and this instance proved no different. Less than a week after getting your bike, you were zipping around on it, pushing off with your feet, then pulling them up and coasting along the sidewalks. Now you can swerve and circle around on your bike; you go down hills like a pro. I love watching you in your flame-embellished helmet. It’s amazing to see you on two wheels at such a young age!
Over the past quarter of a year, your mastery of the spoken word has increased by leaps and bounds. I remember one morning… You woke up and sat straight up in bed. “I awake!” you exclaimed. Then, “Good morning, Mama. How are you? I dream I superhero. And Mama superhero, and Papa super hero.” And then, “Hi, Papa! How are you? I dream I superhero. And Papa superhero, and Jude superhero, and Mama superhero. I get up now.” Finally, you took a breath and hopped out of bed. From that day forward, you’ve been talking nearly non-stop. And the awesomest part is–I can decipher nearly all that you say.
This past week I wrote about some of the imaginative play you’ve been engaging in. I love watching you pretend to be a butterfly, a whale, an elephant. I love it when you pretend to be different characters from the movies you watch. It makes me smile every time you announce that you’re “Bart Simpson” while you sling your backpack over your shoulders and find a clear piece of floor to play with your “battle balls.” Papa likes it when you climb up on to the bed, spread your arms wide and exclaim “To infinity and beyond!” and propel yourself face first onto the mattress.
You’ve made a bunch of big developmental strides during the past few months. You no longer need me to lie with you until you fall asleep at night. Some books, a song, and some cuddles, and then I’m free to relax on the couch at night. Recently, you’ve chosen to make underpants a part of your daily attire. At the playground, you climb, climb, climb! You like to sit atop the tunnel on the small playground and you like to s-t-r-e-t-c-h you arms wide and use your legs to hold on as you reach for the chin-up bar on the big playground. I remember when you couldn’t do either of those things. I think it was last week.
Lately, you’ve been making known your opinion on your Papa having to go to work: you don’t like it. Many mornings are spent trying to make you understand that Papa needs to go to work; that Papa being gone means that Mama can stay home and be with you. It breaks Papa’s heart to have to leave, but I think deep down, he’s happy he’s so loved.
Where do we go from here, Monkey? You’re THREE years old today. Next year you’ll be four, then fourteen, then forty. You just keep growing up; keep moving away from that newborn I held in my arms and cried over three years ago. I’m glad that life forces us to take things one day at time. I want to savor every minute of your growing up.
You bring your Papa and me such joy, Jude. You are, simply put, our greatest accomplishment.
Love,
Mama
