There is a child in our home who has coaxed sentences out of my mouth that I never imagined myself saying.

"DO NOT put your face in the toilet!!!"

"Stop shooting edamame at your brother!"

"No, that's a mole, not a 'button'. Don't push it."

"Do not LICK the dog! Don't eat his food either!"

I feel like a rather even keel, balanced person but nothing can completely bring me to my knees like this boy in trouble.

A few weeks ago, I glanced outside from unloading the dishwasher to where the boys were just playing on the swingset, to see Tymen heaving handfuls of rocks in the air. Jasper was dashing for cover and Tymen was yelling, " Here, birdies!!! Come eat you wocks!!" I dashed out, before someone lost an eye and bellowed, "WHAT are you doing??" Tymen, puzzled as he figured he was doing a good deed, replied, " I frow wocks at birdies. They not eat them."

He is my wild one, indeed. (Great find on the t-shirt, Oma.)

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He's also my fearless one, happily throwing himself into new situations and challenges. He'll give anything a shot on the playground. He loves to be tossed around by his dad and tickled like crazy.

He's also my soft hearted one. He dearly loves babies and taking care of children smaller than him. He tries to share things and sings "Twinkle, Twinkle" to fussy babies. He lays on his belly with Theo and croons, "Awwwww, Chubster. You so cute!" Then he turns to me and says, "I love a Chubster, Mumma."

He's also my helping one. For many moons, when people asked him what his name was, he replied, "He-per" (Helper). He still marches stalwartly to the recycle bin with boxes and containers for me. He likes to help Daddy with jobs outside. He loves to help bake (which also gives him easy access to treats).

He's also my loving one. He kisses. ""Mumma, I kiss wif ya?" He hugs. "Mumma, I give you a hug?" He cuddles. "Mumma, I cuddle you and the Chubster?"

He's also my mangling words one :). He's having a bit of a problem with blends and some of his words crack us all up. To Oma, "You 'mooch me, Oma?" (You smooch me, Oma?). When he needs help with his pants, "You 'nap my pants?" (You snap my pants?). "I go wide on my 'coo-ter." ( I go ride on my scooter). With a glint in his eye and his fork pointed at his brother, when he thinks I am not listening, "I 'tab you, Japper." (I stab you, Jasper). When I am cooking dinner, "That 'mell weally good." (That smells really good).

This wild one is turning three. Three years of loving this boy is just a drop in the bucket.

To celebrate his birthday, he and I trucked off to Starbucks for a little photoshoot date. Starbucks is one of our favorite places to go. Chocolate milk in a carton. A treat. We've been taking the kids on dates, one kid, once per week and we are loving it. A birthday date is especially fun.

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Feet barely fitting to the edge of the seat. His brother's hand-me-down shoes. Camos which he wears every chance he gets.

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We put on some silly glasses that he was tickled to get at his friends' birthday party.

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In honor of turning "fwee" he got "fwee" cake pops. Oh, happy day. Being the sweet boy that he is, he immediately offered me one when I gave them to him.

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He counted to make sure there really was the right number.

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Yep. There was.

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Then I let him go for it. He put on his glasses again and munched away.

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This child delights my heart and I can't believe that he is mine. He is a gift.

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I mentioned before that he mangles some of his words. My favorite word that he can't quite say is "squeeze."

"'Queeze me, Mumma! 'Queeze me!" he says when we cuddle.

Happy birthday, Tymen. You can have all the squeezes you want, beautiful boy.

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