Three at last

Our number one son was three years old last weekend. We can hardly believe it. It seems like only yesterday he was taking his first bite of solid food, taking his first step, signing his first words, and now here he is saying, "Where are my presents? I want more presents."

A few good friends gathered at the house to help him celebrate. Of course he had a wonderful time. I don't think there is anyone who enjoys a party more than Toby. He will often wake up from an afternoon nap with the words "Who's coming over?" When we tell him no one, he gets to hang out with Mama, Mimi and the twins he says "Ooohhhh." In a rather dejected voice.

Two was a good year for our boy, he never really put us through the terrible twos - at least not for any long stretches. We have heard that three can be more challenging than two though. I got a taste of that this morning, when he had a massive tantrum because he didn't want to go to school. I think he woke the whole neighborhood with his screaming. Despite a rough start though, in typical Toby fashion, his mood improved 100% as soon as he was around his friends at school.