3.5 (on the Richter Scale)

Dear Ryan:

Happy half birthday!  I can finally stop attempting to do math in my head to figure out how many months old you are - I just say "he's 3 and a 1/2" and everyone nods knowingly.You are growing up so fast - you experienced a growth spurt last month that had you begging to eat a full meal every twenty minutes, and now I catch a glimpse of you out of the corner of my eye and think, where did that kindergartner come from?

You're developing well in other areas, too - you're working on your manners, including using a napkin instead of wiping your hands on your shirt, and sharing snacks with your brother comes so easily. 

I love watching the relationship between the two of you develop, with you eager to get him to play with you (on your terms, of course). Jack, too, is eager to see you, hollering "RYAN!" when you come out of your room in the morning like you've just walked into the neighborhood bar...

You're still not the most physically adventuresome little man, but you've adding jumping from a short height (2 feet or less) to your repertoire, and our evening stroller walks include some actual walking on your part (usually after Jack attempts to jump out of the moving stroller first).  We'll spend a lot of time at the splash park this summer to get you closer to willingly putting your face in the water. 

Your well-loved Honu gained a new friend, New Honu with Eyes, that Dad brought back from a recent business trip to New York that included a stop at FAO Schwarz.  As excited as you were about its impending arrival, you still favor the original.  Often you insist on toting around your entire honu ohana (family) - new Honu with Eyes, Honu #1, Honu #2, Baby Honu, Grandma Charma's Honu, and Itty Bitty.

We've been going for bike rides with you and Jack in the bike trailer attached to your Dad's bike.  You've obviously been paying attention to every little detail, because a few days ago you were riding your trike through the kitchen and you announced to me that you had "slinks" on your feet.  "Slinks?" I said.  "What's that?" You banged your feet on the trike pedals and said, "Slinks, like Dad has.  For my pedals!'' I then realized you were referring to the CLEATS on the bottom of our bike shoes that click into the pedals.

I could go on and on telling tales of how smart you are, how kind and generous, about your super potty skills and your love of the outdoors (and outdoor tools such as the fertilizer spreader, hose sprayer head and faucet handle, and, of course, the lawn mower) - BUT I need to go to bed so I have enough energy to keep up with you tomorrow!

You are my sunshine,
Mama