Hi. You are now 7. As always, the age you are now is my favorite age, but I think that is because you’re one of my two favorite kids. But you are certainly my most favorite 7 year old I’ve ever met so far.
You are still the same remarkable boy you’ve always been. You are so special to everyone you encounter. You are kind and fun, and lately funny, too. You like to tell jokes, you like to play LEGO and Playmobil still. You are a tremendous big brother to dear annoying 2 year old George. George just adores you as well.
You are in second grade now, and your teacher seems sweet and kind. You seem to like her a lot, though we do have mornings (like this morning) when you are frustrated that you have to go to school and read and write all day, when you would rather stay home and play. I get it, dude. I do. I wish we all could do that, too.
You have grown in so many ways this last year- you are tall, almost to my shoulder in height. You are skinny, and you are a good eater. You like biscuits and honey, and I try to make them a lot so you can load up on calories and get something to stick to those bones. You are still very snuggly and cuddly though. You love to watch movies on the couch with me, especially when it’s just you and me. We’ve watched E.T., The Princess Bride, Harry and the Hendersons, and the Harry Potter movies (1-3) so far. With the exception of HP, these are all movies I enjoyed as a kid, and I love sharing them with you. I also love that you are especially attuned to picking up on the bad words people in movies (and sometimes in real life) say out loud. You have spelled “the S word” to your dad, and are well aware of it’s intended usage. We talk about rude words that adults sometimes say. It prompted a conversation I had with your dad, when I asked him if he remembers the first time he ever cussed out loud. I remember when I did. I said “shit” during a dodgeball game in gym class in 4th grade. I uttered it under my breath and expected lightning to strike me down right there on the gym floor. It did not. Your dad called someone in Kindergarten an a$$hole. (You can ask him what that word means if you don’t know already…but I’m sure you do.) Kindergarten!? So I’ll leave the judgement up to you, but I imagine the first cuss word you say out loud will be the same as the one I said, but maybe a few years early. Ha!
My favorite time of day is still when we walk to school in the morning together. Though most mornings you run ahead with your friend Jake and leave me in the dust. You still sign “I love you” to me usually. But you didn’t this morning. You were sad that it was Monday. We had such a good weekend together, as a family. We had the Ox Roast with fun rides and games. Last weekend we went to the Ohio State Football game together and had a blast doing that. We are looking forward to another trip to New York City in October to see your Great Aunt Bonnie. We are going to see the show The Lion King.
Your dad and I are constantly in awe of what a great kid you are. The only thing I would change about you is I wish you saw yourself the way we see you. We are so incredibly proud of the smart, hard working and kind person you are. You are an amazing example to your brother, who I believe will need a good leader like you to pave the way for him. And no one is sweeter and more willing to give hugs and hold hands, than you. I will cry when we don’t hold hands anymore, and when you don’t tell me how good I smell, or nuzzle into my belly when you hug me. But your height and demeanor and all of the signs that are pointing toward pre-adolescence are there right beneath the surface. And I know that one by one those things will all but disappear, and I’ll be left looking at videos and pictures of you at age 7, just like I sit and look at pictures and videos of you at age 3, now.
People say “the days are long but the years are short” when you have kids. And it is a cliche saying that is absolutely true. But I am so in love with you that even the long days don’t seem long enough. You’re growing too fast. We all have too much to do.
I hope that someday you read this and can somehow feel the warmth and love that I have for you. It’s so hard to properly convey it here in a written message. Becoming your mom 7 years ago was the best thing I’ve ever done in my life. Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Thank you for being the person you are and thank you in advance for forgiving me for every misstep I make in parenting you or being the support person you need me to be. I love your skinny little guts and can’t wait to see what this year holds.
All of my heart,