Isaac, my very last baby ever (unless some act of God occurs), turned three whole years old this month.
His brothers made him birthday toast. Different, yes, but sweet.
I wrote this poem a couple of weeks ago. It hit me as I was tucking Isaac into bed one night, but it's how I feel about every single one of my boys, as they are growing into such amazing big boys and young men. Yes, I know, it's terribly sappy. The older I get, the bigger a baby I become.