Hey Buds,

You're three years old today, and even though I can conjure up a million memories of you from different stages of the last three years, I still catch my breath at the reality. Three? Three!

Three. 

I have this feeling that for the rest of my life, I'll tell you stories of this past year, beautiful stories I'll share to warm us up or make us laugh. Stories that will be like a dose of sunshine when we most need it. Because, sweet boy, I loved this past year with you so much, new words need to be invented. I could never do this year justice. I hope my smile is enough for you when you hear me talk about it. I hope it's enough when you hear me talk about anything at all, in fact. I hope you see me and no matter what moment we're in, you always see how just much I love you written all over my face.

I don't want to get all braggy-brag because that's kind of annoying, but we are just ridiculously proud to know you, Kyle. You are sweet and hilarious and thoughtful and your daddy and I are constantly looking over your head at each other, with goofy grins like, "He's OURS? We get to have him FOREVER?" 

You look a lot like me. In photos, I see it like a mirror, but in person I don't see it much at all. I don't know how this works but you look at me with your stubborn, steel-filled eyes or you think long and hard about what pj pants you want to wear when I've only given you the option of two pairs THAT ARE THE EXACT SAME or you stick your tongue out, without meaning to, when you're deep in thought and I see your father.

You have my features and your dad's gleam in your eye and it's a weirdly awesome combination but don't let me fool you too much: you're still very much your own. You're still very much Kyle. In this past year, you have gone from a slow-to-warm-up, cautious little boy to a brave, independent, cool kid. It's been pure joy to watch you open up and shine. 

I said this to you today, actually, that three years ago at 6:32 pm on February 5th, when you were placed on me with your dark, dark hair and your long, tiny feet and your dark-as-night blue eyes, what happened, in addition to you changing our lives forever and ever and making us better, more fragile people, is that the world just got brighter. You are beautiful and you shine and you make our lives bright, bright, bright.

You say the funniest things, kid. You crack me up constantly and althought you push our boundaries and you probably will continue to until the day you move out (WHICH WILL BE NEVER, I AM A WEE BIT ATTACHED TO YOU), the hilarity of what you say to us on a regular basis just seems to make up for it each and every time. 

I wish I was the best mom in the world because that's the mom you deserve. I wish I had it all figured out because that's what you deserve. I wish I cooked every night and cleaned every weekend and organized fun, elaborate activities for us as often as possible and made you laugh every day and never, ever lost my cool because, yes yes yes, that is all what you deserve. I wish I never had to fall short of all the things I wish to be for you but I know the reality is that sometimes I just will. But here's what I say to you often, whenever I go to work or out with a friend or anywhere away from you: "In this family, we always come back." This means that we show up, we get in the ring, we apologize when we screw up and we try better tomorrow and we love with every fiber in us. We aren't always great but we always show up.

We also never let a single day go by without telling you that we love you. 

It's undeniable how brilliant you are
In an unreliable world you shine like a star
It's unforgettable now that we've come this far
It's unmistakable that you're undeniable

-Mat Kearney's "Undeniable"

Because we do. Ohhhhh, do we love you. In fact, every morning I look at you and think that I love you as much as any person could ever love another and it's just not possible to love you any more. Then the next morning, I get up, I look at you, and I do.