One day I know I'm going to thank heavens for this blog. For the memories captured here when my filling in of baby books is patchy at best. When I remember that I abandoned scrapbooking when Brodie was 9 months old. And I'll be so happy that the me of today found a few stolen minutes to record this stuff here.
Baxter turned three this week. He loved the balloons. He loved going swimming and choosing a Pokemon toy and having people bring him gifts. We got him a car garage and pirate ship which he has already played with for hours so we are patting ourselves on the back for getting that one right.
Every day since his birthday he's run a chubby little finger along the window sill where his cards are lined up, chatting to each one, no doubt remembering the fun we had and looking forward 362 days when we can do it all again. His stature may be small but his character is giant. He is not to be overshadowed. Not that he's loud, especially not in a crowd. He knows his own mind, is firm in his illogical three year old logic. He knows how to make us all laugh, he loves to make us laugh. He loves stories and cuddles and food. You know, the good things in life.
He wanted a PJ Masks cake. Ebay delivered with these plastic play figures and my hands are still faintly blue from making that blue fondant icing. No pictures please. Sigh.
Luckily a few days later Baxter did agree to let me get my camera out - well, it only cost me a few chocolate coins. I complain there are few photos of me with the kids - but I took this one with the self timer. I love it - his wee face is just dreamy. I'm not looking my best but I know my kids won't care. One day I hope Baxter will look at this and smile. Anyhoo, onto the birthday boy.
He is fantastically, whole-heartedly and wonderfully three. Although if you ask him how old he is he might well say 'cute'. I did tell you he'll do anything for a laugh.
Happy Birthday Baxter Andrew