warm as toast

Dear Ollie,

I can't believe you're three today.

6 weeks in his onesie from Auntie GG and Uncle C

Gone are your gooey thighs and rubberband wrists.


You're no longer content to sit still at the park.


The car ads in the newspaper don't give you a thrill anymore. Maybe when you're 16 and hoping for a car. (Don't get your hopes up, kid.)



You say you need things, like you need to watch “Thomas the Train.” You need leche. You need to stay up. We always correct you and say you don’t need that—you only want that.
Now you say, “I need-want to watch Thomas the Train,” or “I need-want to go play.”

You always tell Dad and me, “hold you,” which means you want one of us to hold you.

Your favorite movies are “Cars” and “Horton Hears a Who.” You like to watch “Dinosaur Train,” “Curious George” and much to our chagrin, “Thomas.” You always find a toy to go with what you're watching. If it's "Cars," you hold McQueen. If it's "Horton," you find an elephant.

Sometimes you tell me to be “Oviler” and you’ll be “Twacey.” Then you call me honey and ask if I want to go the park.

You hate taking a bath, except if it’s time for bed.


You love, love, love your best friend, Faelan. When you’re at school and I tell you that it’s time to go and to tell your friends goodbye, you say bye to Faelan only. We’re working on this.

Sometimes you ask if we can “have a cuddle” and my heart melts.

You truly love people, particularly kids.

You love your uncles and you show off for them.


All of your grandparents are mad about you -- and you know it.

When we’re driving you talk constantly and you’re a bad backseat driver. Once I didn’t have my seatbelt on and you hounded me until I put it on. (Not because of the seatbelt, but because of the light on the dashboard.) When we sit in traffic you often ask me if I can drive faster.

You sing the ABCs when you’re excited. On our way to a birthday party? You belt it out.
Waiting for a donut at Fellini’s? ABC!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Ollie-pepper, Mr Magoozer, MowMow, Ollie-max, we love you to pieces. Happy birthday, big guy.

Love, Mama