three

Trey Hawk
Trey Hawk-Jayhawk
Big Guy
Buddy
T-Rex

Whatever you call him, he's now three years old.
We've made it this far without a broken bone.
Miracle.

 He's on the go, all the time.
With his Mack truck, and Lightning McQueen, and his airplanes, and all his Thomasseseseses.
I can't ever get a decent picture of him.  He moves too quick for the camera.

Out of our three children, he has the biggest southern accent.  
He says, "Gi-TARRR." (guitar).
And, "Ka- CHOOOWW." (from Cars)
Seems like everything has a twang coming out of his mouth.

Trey is into cutting paper with scissors.  
Doesn't matter if it's something you spent a long time on at school- he would like to cut it up.

Chad says I baby him too much.
But, he IS my baby. 
It's allowed.
In my opinion.

 He knows his letters and numbers, and recognizes them when we're going places.  He loves his blankie still, and we carry that around when we're going places. 

I love the goofy way he runs.
And his dimples.
And how he wants to be so big all the time.
And how much he loves his Daddy ("just the boys!")
And how much he laughs and smiles each day.
And his onery side.