Van successfully turned 3 years old yesterday. He was the perfect happy three year old. Throughout the day, he would randomly hug me and said, "Mom, I love you! You're cute!" The cute thing is new. He says that when he is so overcome with love and appreciation. To celebrate his birthday, we had a BBQ with the Verbecky's. They have the most spectacular backyard. They have a giant tree swing, GIANT. And my children were smitten by it's glory. Oh, and I got pooped on by a bird twice. Twice. Stupid.
I wish the whole world could experience Van. He has a disarming smile with deep, asymmetrical dimples. He is affectionate and extreme. Extremely happy or extremely sad. He wears rain boots 90% of the time. He loves milk and juice, but not water. He will throw punches if Jack takes the scooter from him. He likes to take apart tampons. He is truly obsessed with his daddy. Love that kid.
Tonight, I have 3 loads of kid laundry to fold. And while I do that, I will eat Van's birthday Butterfinger from his saintly nursery teacher. Oh shut up, I promise I will get him another one tomorrow when I go to the store. By the way, the heaven's have opened and smiled upon me. "Strictly Ballroom" is on Netflix. It is the weirdest, coolest, oddest movie of all time. And I get to watch it while I fold. Glory be! Why I was never a sequined, hairsprayed, glowing ballroom dancer- I will never know. I could have been a contender.