He's still so small.

Sometimes I look at Spencer and think about how big he is. And, really, compared to where he started and what he's been through, he's aged a lifetime's worth.

But, he's 3. And sometimes, when I hold his little hand in mine and see how much of a difference there is, I remember. He's been in my life for 3 short years, less time than I've been married and for only a little over 8% of my life. I've had all of my cats longer than that. And yet, do I remember, really remember life before him? Sometimes I feel like my life began on May 23 of 2005.

When I get frustrated or angry with him, I try to remember that he'll only be this way and do these things for a short time. I think, sometimes, of how I'd like to be able to sleep all night in my own bed every night. Or how I would absolutely, positively like to stop picking up little dinos off the floor all the time. But how long will I get to do this? One day he'll be big and he won't need me anymore. He'll go to college, get married, have kids of his own, and I'll wish he was my little boy again, throwing toys and protesting bedtime. And I think that is very key to enjoying every second with him in his childhood.