Dear Jack,

Today you are 35 months old. We're rounding the corner on three! Some things have changed over the last month. Big things. You use the potty now, all the time. I was getting frustrated with your pace, but as most parents told me, you'd do it when you were ready. You were ready about a week and a half ago and we haven't looked back since. No more diapers? Huzzah!

This milestone in your development has coincided with one that I haven't greeted with quite as much enthusiasm. You've given up naps. Cue a dramatic curtain closing, a heavy sigh, a single tear rolling down my cheek. Your naps were my time to breathe, even if those breaths were taken as I washed dishes, folded clothes, or chopped veggies for dinner. So, we roll with it. I've instituted quiet time, and so far you're complying. We sit outside, water the plants, and I read while you play. This is a great time of the day, actually. It's the hours between 3 and 6 that make me long for your naps. You get very mean! One of your favorite things to tell me is that you're going to throw me in the trash. I know you could still use a rest during the day, but bedtime is coming earlier and easier now, so I'll take the good with the bad. You've been sleeping a longer stretch, too, waking later and happier.

You are eating so much lately that I have to think a big growth spurt is on the way. As you fell asleep tonight you tossed and turned. When I asked you what was the matter, you told me your legs hurt. Your dad recalls intense growing pains from childhood and, well, he's a big friendly giant.

Over the past few months, you've watched very little television. It's been easy for me with these beautiful days and work to do in our yard to avoid the screen. Only good things have come with this small change. You play independently, with little need of prompting or reassurance from me. You do, of course, still want someone to play with and I gladly oblige. You woke up one morning as Danger Frog! I asked if you wanted muffins. "No, flies." Instead, you told me that I was not a danger frog but a nice frog, and fed me pollen, rice, and jelly. It's fun to play along with you and watch as your mind assimilates real information into your fantasy world.

I overheard you in your room shouting, "Stop! Stop! Octagon!"

You asked me a very pointed and specific question about your anatomy one day in the car. I won't share it here, but I may use it to embarrass you in a few years when I seem to do only that. Suffice it to say that I should have delegated that discussion to daddy. Your curiosity never ceases, and neither do your questions.

When we're snuggling before bed, all three of us, Daddy likes to say that we've made a Jack sandwich. When you awoke from one of your last, precious naps recently you asked in a drowsy voice, "Where's the other part of the sandwich?" It took me a moment to understand that you weren't talking about lunch.

We walked up the street tonight after dinner, just the two of us, as Daddy mowed the lawn. You looked up at me and said, "I like the way you are." I had to ask you to repeat yourself, and you did. I think I'm like most other moms in feeling a strangling self-doubt at times. In this one quiet moment, you reassured me. Thank you for that, sweet son.

I like the way you are, too.

Love,

Mama