Dear Boo Boo,
Well m'dear, here we are: yesterday you turned three years old. My overwhelming reaction to this milestone has been hunh? Followed closely by what the fuck? How did this happen?
It's been a big year for all of us, in so many ways. Our last few weeks in Houston were pretty hectic, but you dealt with things with your usual aplomb. As long as you had your a-ni-muls, you were happy. It's still true.
Upon first arriving in England, you were thrown off your game a bit - suddenly you'd gone from hanging with your buds all day to hanging with Mama. This resulted in a bit of an exaggeration in your tendency to separate the world into "Mama" and "not-Mama", otherwise known as "acceptable persons" and "unacceptable persons".
Thankfully, you've decided that other people are also acceptable, which had done a world of good for my sanity.
When you went back to nursery in September, it took you a while to get used to the idea again. Fair enough, but I'm happy to see that now that you've started going to the same school as your sister, most mornings you ask wistfully "Can I go back to Devil's school today?"
Unlike Devil, you are sticking to your Texas-accent guns with a vengeance. Some of your vocabulary has shifted (rubbish, toilet, trousers), but you still say "Mama, I ca-yaan't" with a lovely Southern drawl. The one word that has snuck through, however (your grand-paternal aunties will be thrilled to know), is to-mah-to. Which, given that up until a few months ago, those red things were te-ne-moes, is only fair.
You've become quite the amazing traveler over the past months, happily jaunting off to Scotland, France, Switzerland, the Peak District and North Africa. You've thankfully grown past the stage of not being able to sit still for longer then 25 minutes, which makes plane/train trips with you much more enjoyable.
Yesterday, we had a very low key party for you (poor second born!). T and M (our first friends in the UK) came over with their parents. You made animal masks and ran around the house screaming while we had tea and tried to carry on semi-normal, grown-up conversations. I fed the four of you sausages and to-mah-toes and carrots, and you happily blew out the candles on your (personally decorated) cupcakes. It was a lovely afternoon, and though you were a bit grey by bedtime, you were still your usual cuddly, snuggly self. And when we were putting you two to bed, you chattered blithely away through Daddy's and my's stories until suddenly you fell quiet. Sound asleep in mid-sentence. Well done kiddo.
PS - Sorry about the blanket baby. One of these days I'll get it finished, I promise.