Always a Bubba to Me

I have to admit that I really pushed Hubster into having a third child. I wanted to add that extra crazy element to our lives, really shake up the easy pattern of "man to man defense" and the ability to have any car on the market as a family car. I wanted the chaos of three little people, of family in a fuller form, of siblings.

And boy did we get that with our number three.

There is no doubt that there is something about Bubba-Love. We find ourselves laughing with him so often, smiling at his little songs, giggling when he dances, enjoying those times when he leans the top of his head at you for a kiss. He's a pickle this one.

Here he is now three years old and a little man of his own making. He has absolutely no interest in using the potty. He likes his bottle and will not tolerate regular cows' milk for love or money. He's attached to almost every Disney/Pixar film character and will proudly name you all the cars from "Cars." He's obsessive compulsive with his books and cartoons, reading or watching the same story over and over again for weeks at a time.

He's picked up on who speaks French and who speaks English and is very happy to tell you how he's going to be a "big brudder." He pitches a fit when it's time to go to the creche, but always greets me with a smile at pick-up time telling me what a good day he's had. He remembers our friends who've come to stay at the B&B, and he's always happy to go on a tractor treasure hunt or splash in the biggest mud puddles he can find.

He sings with Typhon, chases Anouk and calls Abaka, "Abdecka." He loves his brother and sister, his Grandma and Grand-dad, his Kitty and BaPa. He's a joy and a blessing, even when throwing toys or fighting to stay in the bath.

Happy third birthday, Bubba-Love! You have no idea how glad we are to have you here.