My love hate relationship with age 3

Jack is going to be four in July and its a bittersweet moment to see his third year come to a close.  I thought this as I woke him up this morning. I got down on our hardwood bedroom floor where he is sleeping with a small blanket, no pillow, his bunny and our dog next to a vent blowing cold air in his face.   We have tried to make our bedroom floor as uncomfortable as possible, but it still beacons little boys late at night.  I leaned down and kissed his face and his first words were " the pirates on the bus go arg arg arg"  Random, yes but not really, considering that his latest obsession is pirates.  He laughs and jumps up like he has just slept on a cloud.  A three year old's zest for life is contagious, and exhausting.  In a matter of minutes he has poured himself a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch ( without milk) * explanation to come, and is running downstairs to greet his older brothers who are watching cartoons in the basement. Jack yells " Good morning brothers! " only to have them retort with, "Jack you have a stinky butt", but that doesn't phase him, he begins to talk to them about Pirates and what role each family member plays in his pirate family, and for whatever reason, they listen.  I'm the only girl pirate and Don is the ship.  At the coaxing of his brothers he also decided to declare himself a butt pirate. They don't even know what that means, they can put the word butt in front of anything and think 1. that they came up with it and 2. that they are the next comic standing.  But...  it made me laugh so I made him repeat it. Hopefully he will keep that to himself at his pirate themed vacation bible school tonight.  Three year old's can go from asleep to a coke head in 60 seconds, they can also go from a coke head to a door nail in the same amount of time.  One minute they are bouncing on the couch and  the next minute they are asleep, face down in their refried beans at dinner.
They don't care what are who is popular. They play with whom ever they feel like and when they get tired of that kid they move on.. no hard feelings at all, maybe a toad distracted them.  They speak from a place of truth that gets filtered when they reach the ripe age of 5 or 6. This could be viewed as love and hate.  Yes, I know that the checkout woman at Walmart has a mustache, you don't need to say it out loud and when I ignore you, tell the person behind me or the women herself.  There are also times when I don't want to be asked if there is a baby in my tummy, especially when there isn't, and won't be, and right before I go out and was feeling pretty confident with my outfit.
A three year old loves with their entire being and they are not afraid to tell you. Just today Jack yelled across the pool at me. " I loovveee you mooommyyy!"  This was right before he asked for ice cream, but I would like to believe he was just struck with that overwhelming admiration.
Actually, every emotion is felt with extreme intensity.  Jack can get so angry at his brothers that he actually turns red and shakes like a rocket , yet he is quick to forgive.  When things don't go his way, the world is ending. In his short life I believe the world ended at least 24 times.
He is still young enough to be held, but walk when you need him to.  He craves independence yet still needs you to witness his accomplishments.
They have distinct tastes when it comes to food. A food that they love can be completely repulsive when mixed with something else * see above. Milk alone is only acceptable if Ovaltine is in it, if it is white, or with cereal you could have better luck getting a rabbi to eat a pig.
Their world is so small and they are still in the center of it. They truly believe that everyone at the ballpark cares that they need to poop or go potty. There are no limits to what they can do, they can climb a mountain to visit giants, they just need you to drive them there and provide snacks. Nothing is taboo and modesty has not presented itself. Having a conversation with their grandmother, a babysitter, a local politician, completely nude or in a full snow suit makes absolutely no difference to a 3 year old...or maybe that is just mine, I'm not sure.
My earliest memory was when I was three.  It is of my grandma making me a tweety bird cake. I don't think I had a fondness for tweety bird, but when she asked me what kind of cake I wanted it was the first thing that came to mind.  I remember watching her make every little yellow frosting feather.  I don't remember anything else about that age.  And to think, three of my most favorite years of Jack's life may only be remembered by him by photos or videos.  To go from sucking being his only talent to singing/composing and writing his own lyrics to songs, walking and wiping himself in only 3 short years is monumental.  I can't say I accomplished anything remotely as complex as that in the last 3 years.. I did learn to knit though.
So even if he doesn't remember me waking him up from our bedroom floor, maybe he will remember that he felt loved, and I guess I would be fine with that too.  Every year has its own   uniqueness, but I have to say three is the hardest most wonderful year yet.