My Boy. He’s seven. As of this past Saturday. Seven. Seven. I’m having trouble wrapping my head around that. At the moment it seems so . . . Old. Mature. Big. I know the day will come when I will look at Ruth, see her as seven and say, Wow. She’s still so little! But in the meantime, my firstborn is hitting a new milestone and I can’t believe how old he’s getting to be.
He is simply great. In so many ways he is exactly the Boy who greeted me seven years ago. With these intense eyes, darting about, determined to figure this place out. “I don’t know where I am, and so far I can’t seem to be able to move much, but I. will. understand and conquer this place. Whatever it is.”
He’s still the Boy who would get excited from his toes to his nose and flap his arms up and down breathlessly when we would put his blankie over his face while he lay on the floor. His blankie is currently a tangle of waffle-weave knots.
He is still the Boy who as a toddler was surely a liquid as he expanded to fill every square millimeter of space available to him.
He is still the Boy who at barely three could walk into a room of grown-ups and assert himself, ask them what they were doing and how he could help.
He is still the Boy who moved non-stop from sunrise to sunset and slept and slept all night long.
Yep. He might be seven. And he might be getting awfully old. But he’s still my Boy. My sweet, sweet Isaac Boy.
Oh that’s just wonderful. He really did have intensely interested newborn eyes, didn’t he? He sounds like fun to be around.
Comment by Lois — June 10, 2009 @ 3:29 am |
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ISAAC!!!!!
Comment by Jeannette — June 10, 2009 @ 7:03 am |