Our Boy is 3

What our new 3-year-old is up to these days: being a pirate; turning everything in reach into a sword (“I sword you!”); hitting wiffle balls; throwing footballs; making smoothies with Daddy every morning; putting out fires; riding scooters; riding bikes; ringing his new bike bell; doing somersaults; eating watermelon; measuring everything with his new measuring tape keychain (“Two and a pounds!”); amazing me when I asked him what S-T-O-P spells (“STOP!”); peeing on the toilet every time; asking about people’s relationships and trying to figure out how people fit together; giving compliments (“That’s a nice necklace, Mommy!”); riding on our shoulders; striding to the back of the B45 bus like he owns it; being a cocoon in his school’s Spring Festiva even though he really wants to be a caterpillar; counting; worshipping Finn and Clem; trying to remember which is his ring finger and which is his pointer; having friends; playing with his friends; talking about his friends; obsessing about “Seven Brides for Seven Brothers”; obsessing about Mr. Rogers making pretzels at the pretzel factory; having bad dreams about eating ice cream and losing the cone; sometimes being scared of big dogs; being a very tender doctor when he gives shots (“You’ll be OK, Mommy.”); finding Curious George hilarious; wishing he could live in Busytown; wanting to stay up late and not go to sleep “ever, ever, ever!”; watering the plants outside our building; riding the tire swing endlessly; getting dressed by himself; setting the table before dinner; loving his fish oil pills; dancing to a greeting card that plays, “I’m Walking on Sunshine”; wanting me to sing the songs “Grandma used to sing to you”; singing the peanut butter-jelly song (complete with the slides) while I make him a roll-up in the morning; freaking out when his food breaks unexpectedly; moving, never stopping; being Elio, perfectly himself.