My Boy is Seven


My due date was on a Friday, which was also my last day at work before maternity leave.  I joked with coworkers and friends that I'd like the baby to give me the weekend, and then be born on the following Monday, so I wouldn't waste a day of maternity leave just waiting around for him or her to arrive.

And that's exactly what he did.

He weighed a smidge under 8 lbs when he was born.  He was completely perfect.  He's considerably taller now, but he looks just the same.  Or, rather, I still see him the same.  I know I always will. 

I think when we see people, especially loved ones, we don't just see the external stuff.  We have a kind of x-ray vision about them.  We see what they look like, of course, but layered with that, in a sort of other dimension, are ALL the ways we see them, and have seen them, feel them, feel about them, hear them, and so forth. 

They shimmer.

And then they belch loudly and you come out of your reverie. 


Last night he went to bed without a fuss for a change.  Because in the morning, it would be his birthday.


When I drop him off at school, he doesn't want me to kiss him, because "the teenagers" (actually, they're only sixth graders, so they're what, eleven years old?) might see it and make fun of him.  I settle for a high five, because I was terribly shy when I was little and that part of me doesn't want the "teenagers" making fun of him either.  Even if it's only in his mind. 


He is always enthusiastic about foods he likes.  This morning, while he ate a large hunk of strawberry rhubarb pie for breakfast, and sampled one of the mini brownies I made for him to bring to class today, he shook his head and said "Mom, I love your cooking." 


Speaking of brownies and "teenagers," as we pulled up to the school this morning, he suddenly asked why he couldn't put the container of brownies in his backpack.  I'm assuming it's so those pesky "teenagers" wouldn't make fun of him because he was carrying a container of brownies.  I said no, if they went into the backpack they'd fall all around in the container and get messed up.  He didn't say anything.  I handed the container to him through the window of the car after he'd got his backpack on, and as I pulled away, I saw him maneuvering the container – on its side, so all the brownies could spill around inside of it – so it was sort of behind him and hidden a bit under the backpack.  The whole time he was doing this, he had one eye on the "teenagers" where they stood in their teacher-designated spot on the blacktop.  It's a tough world out there.


He was extremely grateful for the Star Wars toys he received this morning.  He said "Thank you" a lot.  He's a nice boy.


He allowed Julia to hold his new Jabba the Hut toy.  A bit later, after breakfast, toothbrushing, and getting dressed, he suggested to Julia that they play with ALL their Star Wars toys combined.  Julia was delighted.  "Mom!  Alex wants to play with our Star Wars toys TOGETHER!"  He's a generous big brother sometimes.


Other times, of course, he wants to play by himself.  Then he has to defend himself from the Wrath of the Little Sister.  Good thing the Force is strong with him.  (I know, I'm blending outer space sagas.)


He loves to draw.  He loves all kinds of animals and bugs and fish and birds…and, of course, dinosaurs.  He is kind, and gentle, and caring, and protective. 


He now wants the colors of his bedroom to be these:  Green for the grass…blue for the sky and the water.  Oh, and orange curtains.  That'll work.


He is a ray of sunshine.

10 thoughts on “My Boy is Seven

  1. Happy Birthday!!!!He is adorable. My daughter is 11 or should I say eleventeen! They sure act like teenagers at that age!

  2. I absolutely love how you talk about your kids! The world would be a MUCH better place if all mothers loved their kids as much as you obviously do.

  3. I love that you feed your kids pie for breakfast. Is this a birthday thing or an everyday thing? I would be so much more popular with my stepchildren if I allowed pie for breakfast or even the popcorn and tookies for dinner that my ten year old wanted when he was three.

    Happy Birthday Alex! I love your mother’s cooking too.

  4. Well, it’s not an everyday thing.  And it wasn’t just for Alex’s birthday, although that was probably part of it.  We just happen to have some strawberry rhubarb pie left, and he LOVES that, and it’s got fruit, so it’s kind of healthy.  Julia didn’t have pie – she had a bowl of rice crispies.  When I was a kid my mother used to make me strawberry shortcake for breakfast.  My birthday is in early July, so the strawberry season was winding down at that point, but there were still good local farms producing them.  Maybe that’s where I got the “Okay, sometimes” mindset about dessert for breakfast.  Or maybe it’s the “Okay, as long as it’s got fruit in it.” 

  5. Food is food, it is all nourishing if it is made well. We just have mindsets about what is suitable for each meal, when really it is the overall mix of the day’s food that matters.

    I like cold chili and hot lasagne for breakfast. But then I am seriously weird.:)

  6. Happy B’day to Alex. I witnessed a 6th grader at the school where I work kiss his grandmother on the cheek and thank her for bringing him something he had needed for the last day of school. This 6th grader is 6′ tall, he had to bend down to reach his Grandmother’s cheek. We couldn’t help but say Awwww as he did it. Hopefully we didn’t embarrass him. So tell Alex it’s OK to thank his mother in any way he feels the need. He may even start a trend.

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