You are now three years old. You are a quiet little guy, preferring to play alone or with your sisters. You are getting noisier, though, and have started running around in circles burning off energy and (as always) you love to put on a show to try to make mommy laugh. You do not like it when we call you a "big boy." You always tell us that you are a "little boy" or a "baby."
You have a deep affection for balls and vehicles, particularly the characters from the Cars movie. You like to shoot baskets and play catch, and everything else you can do with a ball as well. You listen for helicopters and big trucks and always spot motorcycles when they are farther away than mommy can even see. You like to play pretend, whether it's as the dog in your sister's games, or when you make your cars talk to each other.
You can count to 20 (although you skip some of the teens). You have pretty much entirely switched to regular words from the "The Boy words" you made up (although you still know the old "The Boy words": if I ask you who Bida is, you answer "Middle Girl!"). One of your words that you still use is "stink" (a noun used in place of #2, as in "I need to go stink"). Another is "you're a funky lady" (which has now been shortened to just "funk"). When you are upset with a person, you tell them this. "Mommy, can I have fruit snacks for breakfast?" "No, my Boy." "Awww, you funky lady!" This would be funnier to me if you didn't say it with such an angry tone. I wonder where you came up with that one. When you ask for water, you ask for "coldwaterfromrefrigeratordumptrucks." The "dumptrucks" part refers to the sippy cup with dumptrucks on it.
You like to sit on my lap for a snuggle, and when we hug you tenderly pat my back. You tell me to give you "fast kisses" or "slooowww kisses."
You have mommy wrapped around your little finger.