My little Ezzaboo is three years old today. He's a magical, creative, kissable, funny, sweet, love of a boy and I feel so blessed to know him and to have the priviledge of being his Mama. Truly, it is an honor.
Ezra's a dreamer and a dream to watch. He sings stories all the time--to himself, to his shadow (above), and when we're lucky--to us too. His voice can melt my heart and make me crumble to bits in a fraction of a second--no matter if he's singing about how much he loves me or singing about poop. Yes, he can make my heart melt by singing about poop. He's that awesome.
I worry a lot about the whole 'middle child' thing. That he's missing out on things, or being overshadowed, or not getting enough attention. But as soon as those fears start to pop up, I see he and Calvin playing together--laughing together and really and truly knowing each other like no one else does or probably ever will--and my fears are put to rest.
Today we'll be celebrating with lots of romping about outside, plenty of singing, many hugs, and a tea party with 'chocolate cake and chips'. Happy birthday my funny, lovey, silly, sweet one. I'm so glad you're here.