It’s an important age obivously and this is why....
Today is Little Dude’s birthday. Only, he’s not so little anymore.
He’s 7.
This means he’s lost all traces of his baby belly and chubby cheeks. He is all coltish legs and angular features and perfect skin. He is energy trapped in human form. He chafes when I hover and ventures into the world instead of always clinging to my arm.
He can read, write, add, subtract, multiply, to some extent divide,walk to his friend’s house, get his own breakfast and make his own bed.
He has his own preferences and peculiarities. If seven is the number of deadly sins and years of bad luck for breaking a mirror, it is also the number that reminds me that my son is no longer an extension of me, but a person in his own right.
Every year I write him a letter on his birthday to try to capture what he’s leaving behind and what lies ahead. The letters imperfectly capture his life as I see it, but I hope if he ever wants to look back on these years, they’ll be here for him.
Dear Little Dude,
Today you are 7 and I am amazed. You don’t know this, but every night I check on you before I go to sleep, and last night, I stared at you for an hour because I cannot believe how big you are. Of all of the things in my life, you are the thing of which I am most proud.
You have changed from a big, pudgy, joyful baby into a tall, and joyful boy. You are kind. You are funny. You are gentle,loving and decent. You are mischievous,happy and exuberant. You say "mom" at least 100 times a day, and most of the time I can't wait to hear what you have to say (although 10 percent of the time I pretend I can't hear you because I just
need a break).
Six was the era of mediocre tooth brushing, card games with no rules, lost teeth , hesitant questions about our trip to india,1st grade, helping mom, requests for more and more playdates and playtime in play area and permission to cross the street while cycling without an adult ,cycling without balancing wheels speedily,the colour red, drawing pictures,
being brave,singing, reading, your love over video games and star wars, New Year's "revolutions" and learning that it isn't always about you.
It was a hard and wonderful year. I expect this one will be, too.
At the threshold of 7, you are full of opinions and good will and curiosity. You are gregarious at home, but shy around people you don't know. You are bright, even as you make up words and phrases with abandon..
You are stubborn and sensitive in equal measure. Quick to forgive, you are also easily frustrated and sometimes selfish.
You are eager to have friends over, but struggle to share when they're here. You are independent in doing your work but till now you need me around yourself and you will not play all alone in another room...
You've become a real boy.
But even as you shed babyhood, ready to embrace the dirt and roughhousing and toughness of the life of boys, I am grateful that at your core you are warm and loving,affectionate and patient and optimistic. I cling to what might be our last year of night snuggles, and hugs and kisses , because this softness is what makes you you. I hope you never lose it.
I’m not sure any parent is ever ready for the realization that their child has a life that is seperate and distinct from their own. I used to spend every moment with you and I knew everything about you and now, you are becoming more of mystery. This mystery will grow as you become a teenager and then a young man. But I hope you know that you can always
talk to me, even when it’s hard. There will never be a time when you cannot come over and sit down on the couch with me and tell me about your day.
I know that you will change as you grow up, but I hope some part of you always stays as you are now, sweet and loving and excited about every new thing.
People will tell you to toughen up, get over things, and be a big boy, but on the cusp of a new year, I hope you ignore them. I hope you stay compassionate and kind and vulnerable, even though I know it will make things harder for you at times though. I love you exactly as you are.
Happy Birthday!
Love,
your mom
Today is Little Dude’s birthday. Only, he’s not so little anymore.
He’s 7.
This means he’s lost all traces of his baby belly and chubby cheeks. He is all coltish legs and angular features and perfect skin. He is energy trapped in human form. He chafes when I hover and ventures into the world instead of always clinging to my arm.
He can read, write, add, subtract, multiply, to some extent divide,walk to his friend’s house, get his own breakfast and make his own bed.
He has his own preferences and peculiarities. If seven is the number of deadly sins and years of bad luck for breaking a mirror, it is also the number that reminds me that my son is no longer an extension of me, but a person in his own right.
Every year I write him a letter on his birthday to try to capture what he’s leaving behind and what lies ahead. The letters imperfectly capture his life as I see it, but I hope if he ever wants to look back on these years, they’ll be here for him.
Dear Little Dude,
Today you are 7 and I am amazed. You don’t know this, but every night I check on you before I go to sleep, and last night, I stared at you for an hour because I cannot believe how big you are. Of all of the things in my life, you are the thing of which I am most proud.
You have changed from a big, pudgy, joyful baby into a tall, and joyful boy. You are kind. You are funny. You are gentle,loving and decent. You are mischievous,happy and exuberant. You say "mom" at least 100 times a day, and most of the time I can't wait to hear what you have to say (although 10 percent of the time I pretend I can't hear you because I just
need a break).
Six was the era of mediocre tooth brushing, card games with no rules, lost teeth , hesitant questions about our trip to india,1st grade, helping mom, requests for more and more playdates and playtime in play area and permission to cross the street while cycling without an adult ,cycling without balancing wheels speedily,the colour red, drawing pictures,
being brave,singing, reading, your love over video games and star wars, New Year's "revolutions" and learning that it isn't always about you.
It was a hard and wonderful year. I expect this one will be, too.
At the threshold of 7, you are full of opinions and good will and curiosity. You are gregarious at home, but shy around people you don't know. You are bright, even as you make up words and phrases with abandon..
You are stubborn and sensitive in equal measure. Quick to forgive, you are also easily frustrated and sometimes selfish.
You are eager to have friends over, but struggle to share when they're here. You are independent in doing your work but till now you need me around yourself and you will not play all alone in another room...
You've become a real boy.
But even as you shed babyhood, ready to embrace the dirt and roughhousing and toughness of the life of boys, I am grateful that at your core you are warm and loving,affectionate and patient and optimistic. I cling to what might be our last year of night snuggles, and hugs and kisses , because this softness is what makes you you. I hope you never lose it.
I’m not sure any parent is ever ready for the realization that their child has a life that is seperate and distinct from their own. I used to spend every moment with you and I knew everything about you and now, you are becoming more of mystery. This mystery will grow as you become a teenager and then a young man. But I hope you know that you can always
talk to me, even when it’s hard. There will never be a time when you cannot come over and sit down on the couch with me and tell me about your day.
I know that you will change as you grow up, but I hope some part of you always stays as you are now, sweet and loving and excited about every new thing.
People will tell you to toughen up, get over things, and be a big boy, but on the cusp of a new year, I hope you ignore them. I hope you stay compassionate and kind and vulnerable, even though I know it will make things harder for you at times though. I love you exactly as you are.
Happy Birthday!
Love,
your mom
