On My Bunny Being Three

Six years ago today, Masa and I thought we were embarking on the adventure of a lifetime. And in a lot of ways, we were. We traveled the world, saw amazing sights and met incredible people. We spent six months just being in each other’s company and taking in all that the world had to offer. Six years ago today, we thought we were pretty special.

But three years ago tomorrow, we embarked on an adventure that left that other one in the dust.

Three years ago tomorrow, we met the most incredible person we’d ever laid eyes upon.

Three years ago tomorrow, we became special.

Little Gus – fresh out of the oven.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow that little miracle who rocked our world turns three.

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This post should just end there because really, I can’t think of anything more to add. My mind is blown. My heart aches with how full it is seeing this family that I never dreamed I could help create, and also with how much I miss my baby Gus, all fat and smiley with his silly giggle. I swing back and forth from how proud I am of that little kid out there who climbs trees and makes up games and rolls with the punches, all the way over to how desperately I want time to slow down so that I can have just one more snuggle, one more hug, kiss one more boo boo before he’s all grown up and gone.

My baby. He’s three.

How is that even possible?

He’s potty trained now. Not at night, but that will come in time. And he says things like, “when I become a daddy, dad will be a grandpa.” But also things like, “we’re bad pirates, right mom?” with a very earnest, curious stare. On any given day he’s Spiderman or Superman or Batman, but never Robin. He insists on being Blake Griffin when we play basketball, and I, Chris Paul, because he knows that Paul is the passer and Griffin is the shooter. Even at three he’s aware of the glory. When his baby brother cries and my hands are full, he “reads” stories, captivating his younger sibling and silencing all complaint.

Some days I swear I will have more patience, the buttons: this kid knows how to push them. I snap more than I’d care to admit. I get exasperated. Sometimes I shout. Sometimes he cries and my heart breaks then and there. Because beneath all the three-year-old bravado is still my little bunny. My Gus Gus.

Gus on the beach. Nearly three years old.

They say it goes so fast. They say it to new parents till we want to smack “them” because OH MY GOD it’s not going fast enough in those first weeks when they’re new and wrinkly and Just. Will. Not. Sleep. fortheloveofgod. When nursing hurts and their cries are so foreign and everything easier seems a million years away.

And now those words ring in my ears. And now I want to relish every second. Even the hard ones. Even the ones when I say to him “mommy needs a time out” and count to ten over and over.

I blinked and now he’s three. I’m scared what I’ll see when I blink again.

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