On January 16th, Frazier was three and a half years old.
3. AND. A. HALF. YEARS. OLD.
...and I'm pretty sure he's the best three and a half year old ever. Though I suppose I may have to amend that statement when N.G. is 3.5.
Even though I've enjoyed Fraz at every stage, I've never wished I could keep him at any one age...until now. I kind of wish he could be three and a half for always. Every day he seems taller and less rounded around the edges. He says things more correctly than he did the day before, and he picks up more habits of ordinary grown ups. One day he won't have those big squishy cheeks, and he won't say "Oh tay" anymore. He won't hum everywhere he goes and the stuff he wears will actually make sense...to other people.
Sometimes he's so cute and clever I can hardly stand it. I have my camera always at the ready. I wish I could film hours of our day- it would be the closest thing to having him three and a half forever. Then I wouldn't forget all the funny stuff he says and the profound things he asks.
I suppose it gets better. When they're four and seven and ten and a half...and when they're twenty and you get to go to the movies whenever you want again, but I want always to remember how good this was.
Because there has never been a day that ended when I wasn't sorry to see him go to bed.
You are my Sunshine, Superfraz.
Superman or Green Lantern ain't got nothin' on you.