He's 3 today.
My sensitive child.
The one who is trying to find his place.
Between baby and big boy, he's loving, stubborn, silly, and feisty.
He loves to dance.
Tractors, Mickey Mouse, and Giraffes are his world.
He looks over his shoulder to find his mama, but doesn't "need" her.
Mr. Independent, this kid.
He'll say no to a good night kiss, then cry if you pretend to walk away and give you all the kisses in the world.
He's been talking to literally everyone about his "Tractor Party" for a year now.
If you have been in his presence, he's told you.
Today is the day.
Hope it's everything you hoped it would be.
I hope LIFE is everything you hope and dream for.
I hope you keep that silliness.
I hope you're daring, but still a little cautious, just like you are now.
You've challenged me in so many different ways.
From feeding you, to sleeping... with or without you, to nurturing your sensitive ways, to potty training you (which you could decide to grasp at any time now, thanks)... you've made me realize that no child is the same, even from the same parents.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
You're my buddy.
My Jackson Paul.
These three years have been the joy of my life.
Can't wait to celebrate with you.
Here's to John Deere Tractors and life.