Oliver turns three today. And it's probably been said by nearly every parent, but we can't believe how fast time goes by. In the blink of an eye, the newborn we brought home from the hospital is now a little boy. I wish I could even still call him a toddler, but his toddling days are long gone, and have been replaced by running and jumping and climbing. Oliver is smart and active and strong-willed. He is loud and busy and, like most three-year-olds, he wants his own way and wants it right now. He also keeps me on my toes. This morning after hitting one of his siblings he got a spanking. Afterwards, he asked me, "Why did you spank me on my birthday?" Sometimes it's hard to keep up with the wheels that are turning in his head.
He is also sweet and tender. Several times a day, from out of the blue, he will say, "Mom, I wuv you" or sometimes "Mom, I really, really, really wuv you." And at nap time he'll say, "I'm ready to snuggle up now," and we'll go cuddle in bed until he falls asleep. Yes, people might think it's spoiling him that I still lie down with him at naps and at night until he falls asleep. But one thing I know for a fact as an "older mom" is that he won't have sleep problems, and one day he will go to sleep by himself. I know his napping days are winding down and there isn't anything I'd rather do than lie next to him as he kicks his feet and wiggles around and twirls his blankie and then slowly gets still and quiet and drifts off to sleep. Bliss!
Oliver was an unexpected gift from God to us. The baby among older siblings. We are grateful for him and can't imagine our lives without him. Happy Birthday, Oliver!