Tomorrow is Jack's third birthday. Third. Third. As in three years ago I was an enormous pregnant woman whose life was about to change forever. I never knew that motherhood would make me such a different person. I hardly even remember who that woman was, the one who was working as a teacher, swallowed by work, and eating out with her adorable husband, and shopping (for herself!).
I can not believe how much has changed in three years.
Jack, of course, is very excited about his big day. He's not at all weepy and nostalgic, like me. He gets to eat his favorite kind of cake, an "icing cake." And he gets presents. And he can stop opening every toy ad that comes and saying, "maybe I will get that for my birthday."
Being three comes with a lot of responsibility, though. Three year olds have to wear underpants. Two year olds can get by with their mommies being lazy and reverting back to pull-ups because they were tired of washing out poopie underpants. But three year olds MUST use the potty. Three year olds will wake up tomorrow morning and put on underpants. And my soon-to-be-three-year-old said, "I just wanna stay two."