People warned me about this age. Beware the threenager, they said. But right now, I love you and everything about you.
I love that you climbed into bed at 6 a.m. and whispered, “God, please keep mommy safe.”
I love how you try to perform magic tricks and say “octa the zebra!” instead of abra cadabra.
Three is worse than two, they said, but right now, in this moment, I love you and everything about you.
I love how you created your own super hero called Super Ba-bam, “a good guy who drinks coffee in the car on his way to fight bad guys.”
I love to see you developing hero worship for your own dad, bragging to your pre-school friends how tall he is, and how high he can count.
Maybe I’m not in love with the daily teethbrushing battles, or our opposing views on naptime.
Some days your defiance is maddening.
But right now, I am living for the little moments, like when you sing a song about going camping and eating spaghetti, and I have no idea where you get this stuff.
I love your dance moves.
I love how you memorize your favorite books and are quick to correct me if I skip a word or two.
I even love how you somehow always have rocks in your pockets.
Though I am holding on to the little moments, I don’t want them to last forever. I know there will come a day when I stand over the washing machine checking your pockets for rocks and there will be none. When that day comes, I may even shed a tear. But I don’t want time to stand still, because I can’t wait to see all the loveable moments that lie ahead.