So says my daughter. "Not little. Only bigger."
"You are getting bigger." And I want to freeze you at every stage and store you somewhere where I can pull you out and hold you when I miss the younger Olive.
"Not a baby," she says as she holds her hands up above her head. "I'm a BIG boy."
"You're a big girl."
"And a big boy."
"Ok," I say, not wanting to force a gender identity on my not yet three-year-old. "You're my little big girl boy."
"No." Olive shakes her head. "Only bigger."