Happy Birthday C Man!

So my little man is three. It's official. He's a big boy. Those of you who aren't new to the blog know that every year, each of my little terrors get a "rant" on their birthday. So, here's my ode to the rotten-ness that is C man (no, I don't use names... get over it:-)

People ask me all the time which is easier, a boy or a girl? I just can't quantify the difference between DRAMA and DESTRUCTION. He's a handful. He kicks, fights, spits, destroys & then flashes his baby blues and blows me a kiss... He loves gymnastics and rocks pre-school as long as the activities are tactile and interesting to him.

He loves the dirt and anything outside. He took swimming lessons before his first birthday and graduated. He's a nut. He's staying dry through the night and I"m so proud of him. He still sleeps with his hands over his head like babies do... and it softens my heart.

He kisses me goodnight after 30 minutes of me trying to wrangle him to bed and says, "Mom, I love you more, too" and I melt. He has me. I am wrapped. He plays me like a fiddle and all I can do is laugh... He's the last baby in the house and he knows it.

If I spank him, he's quick to tell me it didn't hurt. When I ask him if he'd like me to make it hurt, his answer, invariably, is "not right now." And I'm not sure I gained any ground. His sister is the control nut, but C has a much more inconspicuous way of asserting his dominance. Quietly, sneekily, and with perseverance and a bit of cockiness.

He's wild. He goes 100 mph all day with no nap, so he crashes hard. I love the little man he's grown into, and I enjoy the glimpses of the baby he was when he's tired or frustrated. He loves hammers, trucks, yelling at his sister, paint, play doh, and tearing things apart to see how they work.

Happy Birthday C!