He's rambunctious, he's loud, he's busy, he's smart, he's curious, he's messy, and he only ever wants to play with anything with wheels.
He loves sharks and Tow Mater and diggers and dirt and figuring out how things are put together (or how they come apart, more often). He adores his big sister, tolerates his little brother, loves to wrestle with Daddy and has an unlimited supply of snuggles for Mommy.
He looks exactly the way he looked at six months, and a year, and two years. He has the most unchanging, timeless face I've ever seen. He still makes the greatest cheese face ever, and he still loves it when I make his hair spiky after baths. It never lasts long. His hair has the texture of steel wool, and only wants to lay as close to his head as possible.
He's just as silly as ever, and still on the fast track to being the class clown. He and his sister have invented some sort of game in his closet that involves stuffed animals riding on something called a "Zog-Zoe." He won't tell us what it is, except that it's something you "zog" on. Abby's not quite sure, but she plays along, and Caleb is forever inviting her to come ride on the Zog-Zoe with him. She responds by following his lead and gathering all the pillows and blankets from her bed and setting up some sort of stuffed animal convention in his closet. This has gone on for months now, and the excitement of the Zog-Zoe in his closet shows no signs of waning. Occasionally when we're driving around town, he'll point excitedly at something at yell out "Look at the zog-zoe!" But we never know what he's talking about. I'm starting to think the confusion he's causing for everyone is half the fun of this game.
He's smart, probably because at three he's already spent a year in preschool and half a year in pre-k following along with everything his sister is doing. He recognizes and can write most of the letters of the alphabet, can count to 40 or so, recognizes and can spell his name, and recognizes the C-130s, F-22s and F-16s that frequently buzz our house. He solves mazes and puzzles like a champ, and has an insane amount of patience and determination when it comes to problem solving and figuring things out.
He loves to help, and is quick to grab the measuring tape or the drill whenever his dad is working on a project. He's measured our kitchen, backyard and garage more times than I can count, has helped assemble two twin beds in the past few months, and is first in line when Daddy needs someone to hold a flashlight while he crawls under the house to change an air filter. In the kitchen, nothing is baked that hasn't had some assistance from Caleb. He's my go-to ingredient dumper when I need an extra hand with a cake mix or a casserole.
He talks all the time, and only occasionally pauses to sing a familiar tune or one he's invented. "Can I have some water please" to the tune of the hymn "Hallelujah! What a Savior!" is one of my more recent favorite Caleb creations. ("Can I have some water please?/Because I am so thirsty/And I haven't had some yet/Can I pleeee-ease/Have some water?")
We celebrated his birthday just the way he would have it: a giant helium Mater balloon, a digger cake, a birthday crown that he wore all day long, and tomorrow, a trip to the aquarium to watch sharks eat their breakfast. Never has there been a celebration more perfectly suited to our little guy.
Happy birthday, Caleb! Thanks for bringing so much fun and silliness and joy into our lives!
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