Tolstoy at Three?

Ok, so I know that is far-reaching. I (as any other mother I would assume) am beaming with pride at my son's first written words. I have no idea if, at 3 1/2, he is ahead of the game or finally catching up to his peers. However, there is one important part in the words he chose. The first he accomplished, with prompting on the order, was his own name. I sheepishly admit that I immediately took a cell phone picture of that and sent it out to every family member and friend I had in my phone. They probably had no idea why I sent them a picture of some orange scribbles, but here now is the explanation!

His next word, he actually did in his Sunbeams class. I don't know exactly the story behind it, but when I picked him up last Sunday, he proudly showed me his paper that he had colored. There in the bottom corner was this:

Mommy. Awwwwwwww! I will have to ask his wonderful teachers if they helped him spell it or he just did it all on his own (Mary, if you read this-lie to me and say he did it all on his own ;)

It's an especially important first, and kind of a little victory for me. This is going to sound kind of goofy and odd (also a little childish), but I have always been jealous that my husband has been the first to hold our children. I had c-sections with both of them, and the medication was especially rough on me when I had Nicholas. I was so shaky and couldn't even see straight, I actually didn't even feel stable enough to hold him until about a half hour after he was born. I remember aching, wanting to cuddle his sweet cheeks. I'm sure there was a little bit of medical influence, but I was annoyed that my husband was just holding him with this sweet look of adoration on his face. I was jealous. I admit it. But now, in your face, Daddy Bear (said in the most loving way...). I have the first of something, finally! Thank you, Nick. I knew you had my back.