How is it possible that my little boy is three? Watch him grow...
(Iain, September 14, 2006 - his birthday)
(September 14, 2007 - his first birthday)
(September 14, 2008 - his second birthday)
(September 14, 2009 - his THIRD birthday!)
This morning we took Iain (and Cory, of course) out to get blueberry biscuits for breakfast - one of Iain's favorite things. We did a few other birthday-type things today as well, but the real party will be later on this week.
(He looks like he's in pain, but he's really just making a crazy face for the camera.)
As Iain was going to bed tonight, he sleepily asked me, "Is it still my birthday?"
Iain, you are a precious boy. You are curious and smart, and you think about and remember everything! You are funny, too. You make up songs and stories. Today, you sang this song:
"You are special, because I made you. But I don't like you very much. But now I do."
And this one:
"Old McDonald had a farm, and that's all he had."
And your stories have to do with fanciful birds of your own creation:
The Wella-bird: brownish.
The Vulture-wella-bird: black, with black eyes.
The B-bird: very tiny with a "b" on his head.
The Kilby-bird: I have no idea what this one looks like. You haven't told me yet.
You bring us so much laughter and joy, and I love your sparkly eyes and your dimples.
You are a good big brother, taking care of Cory, checking on him, patting his back when he's sad. You'll be a great big brother to your new sister someday, too. You already talk about her. You know she'll be from Rwanda, and that she'll be a "bee-bee" (baby). You can't wait to go get her.
You are sweet to me. You tell me, "That's okay, Mama" when I drop something or forget something. You run and jump and wrap your arms and legs around me like a monkey when you give me hugs. You and I have special jokes and stories, too. Tonight, as you were going to sleep, you sat up and peered at me and said, "Mama, I ate all your cake!" And when I smiled and said, "Yes, you did," you laid right back down and went to sleep. You were talking about how on Sunday, I went to find Cory and left you and Dad sitting at the table eating lunch. You were done, so you said, and I had already cleaned you up. But I put my piece of cake down a few seats away from you, and when I came back, you had moved yourself right over, downed my whole piece of cake, and were sitting there, covered in sticky crumbs, with a big grin on your face. The cat that ate the canary.
You and your dad have so much fun together. You love to wrestle or be chased around by him, and you love to be up on his shoulders. You want to go talk to him throughout the day, and you want to do all the "boy things" with him. You love it when he sings you to sleep, and I often catch you singing "Daddy's songs" to Cory, to your stuffed buddies, or to Jesus. You love your daddy so much, and he loves you too.
My favorite thing about you growing up, though, is hearing you talk more and more about Jesus. You ask me about heaven a lot and tell me you want to go there. You talk about God and to God. Last week, you asked God if I could have a coke, and reported that He said no, but that I could have a healthy treat instead! You are growing in your love for Jesus and I thrill to see Him working in your heart.
We love you, Iain. You are a special boy and you have our hearts. So many people love you. And we are proud of the boy you are growing up to be!
Happy birthday, Iain!