Mr. Doo Is No Longer Two

Heber-Doo (or just "Mr. Doo") is my nickname for #5, who turned three years old today! Against my better judgment--but in compliance with his wishes--we threw a birthday party for him with his friends. The theme was sports in general, and I figured we'd have great weather for running races, kicking balls, and playing outside. But of course this is Utah. It rained and rained. So we ran races, kicked balloons, and played with his new toys inside. We did have a brief reprieve and I let the kids take their punch balloons outside...where most of them popped when they came into contact with pine needles in our grass. If you want my opinion on friend parties, don't start them until your child is four or five years old. Some three-year-olds just have a bit of a hard time being at a friend's house without their mom.

It is somewhat strange to me that the baby of my babies is three years old. I'm happy to report that I've never experienced baby hunger since his birth, so it's strange to think these phases of babyhood and toddlerhood are the last ones I'll see in my home. I absolutely wish I could have frozen him in time about six months ago. But it's also great to see him developing into a little man. He likes to stand by Kent in the morning and share shaving cream or talk about how he's not afraid of sleeping by himself in his bed now that he's a big three-year-old. Thankfully, he hasn't dropped all of his cute babyishness as of today. He still asks me to fix his shirt because it's "inside in", and when I remind him to ask nicely he replies, "Nicely." I sure love this little guy!