Three year olds.

Three and a half. 

It's a tough age. 

Sometimes, Lincoln reminds me of this blurb I recently read: "...They behave like the drunk guy at the party: spilling shit everywhere, yelling belligerent nonsense at everyone in sight, and then passing out in the middle of the floor."

Yep, that about sums up Lincoln. 

But then, each  morning, I wake up as he wraps his arm around my neck and exclaims "I jus wuv you mommy". And my heart instantly melts. And all of those awful behaviors from the day prior are washed away. It gets better, after I tell him how much I love him too,  he then asks me "will you be my bes fweind?". Oh my goodness. I can't even stand it! I love this little boy so much! 

I do remember the girls at this stage, Sidney in particular, Regan was never much of a snuggler. But Sidney would give the best hugs on the planet! Somehow she lost that trait and now hers sadly match her older sisters most days. Lincoln still asks me to sit by him on the couch, "cwoser!", and will lay his head on my shoulder or hold my hand as we watch a show together. Yes, I'd be more productive if I were doing laundry or cleaning the bathroom, but I abide by his requests and take a seat next to my "bes fweind", because I know this stage won't last forever. And I sure love it (most of the time!).