To My Almost 3-Year-Old

Owen! How old are you going to be tomorrow?

"Free!!!"

You are the coolest almost three year old in this entire house. You've brought nothing but joy to us since the day you were born, and the trend continues.

You have always been an observer. You sit back and take in everything before you decide if you want to be a part of it. I think you are really intuitive and have always understood more than you could communicate. Sometimes I think you wonder why I can't read your mind like you seem to read mine. This morning you weren't feeling well and I kept trying to figure out what was wrong. "Does something hurt? Can you show me?" And you just looked and looked at me without saying a word, as if you were wondering why I couldn't just observe my way into finding out what was wrong.

You ask permission for everything, and then say "okay" or "thank you."
"Mommy, can I take off my socks?"
"Sure, baby."
"Okay. My Thomas ones?"
"Of course."
"Okay thank you."
or...
"Is it okay if I poop in the potty?"
"YES, son!"
"Okay thank you."


You want to know everyone's name. When we are in public all I hear is, "What's that man's name? Who is that? What's her name?"

You are still easygoing. You love to swing, ride bikes, jump on the trampoline, and generally just join in with whatever everyone else is doing. You love to build with magformers and play with train sets. You always want to do your "math" when the girls start school in the morning. You know where Maine is on the map, and what year the Boston Tea Party occurred, and what the main parts of the circulatory system are. I realize all of that is highly impractical for an almost three year old to know, but it's the byproduct of being a younger sibling of Classical Conversations students. You are still really good at dribbling a basketball, and I just found out that your whole life, you have thought that the rocking chair in your room is actually a rocket chair.

You seem to have a natural bent toward music and rhythm. You spend a lot of time playing the drums. Loudly. You sing a lot while you play. You have always been really gentle with the piano, never banging on it but softly pressing the keys. You still love to strum the guitar and make up songs. The other day I overheard you singing, "I love pickles in my heart..." And one day when I told you we needed to go put your clothes on, you began singing to yourself, "Nooooo, I don't waaaaaannnnt tooooooo put my clooooooothes on...." And it actually sounded pretty good.

You've adapted to my constant procrastination by always adding "tomorrow" to the end of your questions. "Mommy, can you make some smoothies tomorrow?" Today you were pulling up your sleeves and you commented when you saw your wrists, "Oh! That's the ankle of my arm!"

You love to give hugs and you are so affectionate. You are quick to say "I love you." You still get scared easily at things that are loud or unexpected.

Every night when I tuck you into bed, I lean over you and whisper, "Have I not commanded you?" and you whisper back, "Have I not commanded you?" and then together we finish the verse..."Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged; for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." Sometimes you trip up on words like "discouraged" or "courageous" and when you do, you get a frustrated look on your face and whisper, "I can't say it." And I repeat the phrase and you say it again, until you're happy with the way it sounds. You just keep doing that, O-bo. Keep saying the words until they seep down into your soul and you can say them right every time.

Because you are strong and courageous. You are fearfully and wonderfully made, you are growing in wisdom and stature, you are fun and sweet and tender and yes, strong and courageous.

I love you buddy. Every night when we finish our verse and I kiss your head, I whisper, "You're my Spud." And you say, "Oh. You're my girl."

I love being your girl, Owen. Happy birthday to you!