Here I sit, wondering how this happened...
My boy turned eight.
Eight years ago, on Mother's Day we thought our family was complete. (Little did we know we'd have another addition in just two short years, but that's a story for another day.)
Happy Birthday my boy. I love you more than words can say.To everything there is a season,
a time for every purpose under the sun.
As I sit here, I know just how lucky I am. It doesn't mean there aren't trying times, though. Leading up to Thanksgiving, I found myself in a fog.
Aching for the life that would never be in Minnesota. Aching for the life that I would have to build here, feeling completely out of place. Knowing I would make my life here, but not really wanting to.
I found myself using food. A lot of food.
There is so much to be thankful for...
My newly minted, wise beyond her years, ten year old. How did I end up with a 10 year old?!?
The day this picture was taken, she wanted her hair straightened. Usually it's a bit of a mess that never really looks brushed, even when it is. The top is reasonably straight, but then underside near the nape of her neck is a nest of curls. She doesn't mind it now, but I'm sure as she grows older it will be a source of consternation.
She's so much more devoted to school than I ever was. She has a book report due February 24th. It was assigned Monday. She's read the book and already made an outline for her report. She's excited about typing it. Excited.
At 10, she still cares what I think and my word holds weight in her world. I know that will end, or at least take a back burner for awhile, but for now... I'm holding it close to my heart.
My son has taken a liking to handwriting - they're learning cursive. He will sit for hours practicing his letters. It is the one way we can get him to practice spelling without much wailing and gnashing of teeth.
He had his last regular season hockey game last night. The coach said he is a bit of a slow starter. He needs to get knocked around a bit, and then he's good to go. Better that than quick out of the gate only to lose it halfway through, perhaps? Finish strong - always finish strong.
There's a big hill behind our across-the-street neighbor perfect for sledding - or snowboarding. Given his three snowboards and willingness to share, he's been a big hit with the neighbor kids this winter.
And this one? My five year old too-smart-for-Kindergarten kid? She thought after Christmas break she got to go to 1st grade. She cried a bit when she found out she didn't, and replied, "But I already know all my letters and even how to read." Hard to argue, but when I said she'd miss her friends, she decided Kindergarten would be fine after all.
Most days after school you can find her coloring or trying to read chapter books. If she's not doing that, she's following me around the house. I'm careful not to stop too fast, or she'll run right into me. While she's coloring, reading, or following me, she's usually talking and talking and talking. We call it 'chirping.'
And me? After Thanksgiving I gave myself a good talking to, put down the food, and decided to concentrate on the what-can-be, not what-could-have-been.
Dare I say it worked a little bit. On my parent's last visit, I asked Mom if we could find some 'before' pictures. Sure enough... There they were in living color. Maybe someday I'll be willing to share.
I still have to talk myself into most of my runs. It helps there isn't as much jiggle as there used to be. There's still more to go.
Attitude is everything.
And this? My birthday present, courtsey of my parents.
What is it? A 40 yard roll of batting. Oh the quilts I can make. Anybody need one?!?
...
When we decided to buy this house, we thought the bedroom situation out. I had it all planned out in my head.
Unfortunately, the boy did not agree. Upon inspecting the upstairs, he claimed the loft above the garage.
To get to his room he has to go through either the guest room or his sister's room and the bathroom. He doesn't seem to mind.
He's built a fort by his window seat more than once. That and it has a storage bin under the second section. That's for storing the blankets.
There's also this fantastic built in for his treasures. And his laundry. No closet though. Not much of a problem as how many hanging clothes does one seven year old boy need? He uses the guest closet.
I think he looks pretty happy.
I very nearly wept this morning.
My son struggles to be 'a reader.'
Something in the last two weeks has clicked for him.
He wants to read. He works at reading.
Today he offered to read to the class.
To see my boy sit in front of the class and read... This child that fought me last year, nearly weeping at the thought of reading... This child that fought me all summer when it was time to read... This child that has told me too many times to count that it's "too hard."
To see him read with confidence brings tears to my eyes.
...
