My baby is three years old today. I know you're thinking 'he's not a baby anymore'. The thing is, to me, he still is. Maybe I want to hold on to his 'baby years' so badly that I just can't see him any other way. He's my last, you know, so give me a break.
So, Happy Birthday to John M. My boy, my only boy. Thank you, John, for showing me what it's like to mother a boy. Thanks for showing me all the differences, big and small. Thanks for loving to pee outside. Thanks for liking things with wheels; trains, trucks, tricycles, if it goes, you like it. Thanks for sweet little sloppy boy kisses that you wipe off as soon as you give them out. Thanks for being jealous when Daddy tries to hug me or lay next to me. Thank you for reminding me of 'June' all the time and knowing that a little piece of him exists in you.
I love you, my boy.