Three feels big. Heavy and important and monumental. Two still felt like a baby, still felt close to birth, with everything felt fresh and new. Three feels so big and so old. It’s hard to explain the feeling, but when I had babies I didn’t feel like a mother so much. I felt like a caregiver of tiny humans, someone who was given a gift of these squishly little creatures to take care of. Now I feel like I have a child. A child that I have to raise, mother, and teach.

Three is old enough to ask questions and remember things that I’ve told him. Three is big enough that I need to think about what I say before I saw it, unless I want it repeated forever and to everyone.