

Mason turned three, ditched naps, gained "big brother” status, and became roommates with his brother this year. He revs his engine (clears his throat), turns his propeller (windmills his arms), and shakes his “blades” (a bizarre shaking movement with his hands) the entire day. Seriously. At any given time he will announce that he has a flat tire or is leaking oil. He might actually believe he is a race car. His legs are constantly moving. His body is constantly dancing. And he is constantly making us laugh. This kid is a character, which explains the crazy faces he makes in pictures. He is a techy, and would play on phones and tablets all day if we let him. Some days I do. He picks and eats—ick!—his boogers, but milk and mashed potatoes make him gag. Go figure. He loves to ride his bike, but is not an outdoor kid when the weather isn’t perfect. He started a new preschool where he is clearly the teacher’s favorite. I think it’s adorable. Mason does everything his older brother does, both good and bad. He loves to have his back rubbed and armpits tickled and can cuddle like no one’s business. There is no sound worse than his whining screeching moans when his brother is bothering him, but his laugh is music to my ears. He is incredibly dramatic, and earns my Oscar vote on a daily basis. Next year I hope he will play a sport or two, realize that his sister is not trying to steal his toys, and stop announcing to the world “I tooted” every time he passes gas. Only time will tell!