Conversation with Aiman this morning:
Me: Did you have a good sleep?
Me: Did you dream?
Me: What did you dream about?
Aiman: (long pause) Unicorns.
Me: Ah … do you know what today is?
Aiman: My birthday!
Me: How old are you?
Aiman: (holding up three fingers) Three!
Me: How old is Sofia?
Aiman: (holding up one finger) One!
Me: What are we going to do today?
Aiman: Kids … park … DINOSAURS! … PRESENTS!
My boy is three today. I can hardly believe it. There has been so much change this year that it has flown by in a blink. I feel like it was two seconds ago that we were in San Jose picking out a truck for our freshly-minted two year old. Time flies. Kids grow so fast. Back in my day, gas was a dollar and I walked uphill both ways to school. Man it feels weird to be old. And to have a three year old.
Aiman has become such a little human this year. He speaks in complete sentences. He has a sense of humor. He is so shy with strangers. But an outgoing little terrorizer once he gets to know you. He loves wrestling. And trying to knock his sister down.
He is teaching Sofia sign language. It is the cutest thing that anyone has ever seen – ever. He likes to hear the alphabet, numbers (in English and Spanish if you please), Itsy Bitsy Spider and Mama’s Goin’ to Buy You a Mockingbird every night before bed — in that order. He has to eat grapes before he goes to sleep.
He tells me he loves me “too much.” And it melts my heart.
He is undeniably gorgeous – like seriously – a really beautiful kid. He is super strong and incredibly quick. He always wants to go to the park to play with the kids. He is usually great at making friends, but he has engaged in a bit of playground fisticuffs. I always break it up and lecture him about not hitting, pushing, shoving or engaging in full body takedowns of the other kids, but sometimes — in my deepest heart of hearts — I’m proud that he’s such a little badass. He is still a terrible two/three year old, testing boundaries and pushing buttons, but he does it with such a playful glint in his eye, it’s hard to stay mad for too long (though after the 17th time telling him not to hit his sister, my patience does run thin).
He is independent.
He is smart.
He is happy.
He is the best parts of Riaz and me.
He is easily the most amazingly perfect 3 year old I have ever met.
And we love him too much.
Happy Birthday Aiman.