Today, he is ten. Ten! The first of the four to hit double digits.
TEN.
He’s a chatty boy, the one that I have to remind (usually gently, sometimes exasperatedly) that we don’t always have to talk.
He’s a helpful boy, the one that can’t quite keep out of any and all conversations happening around him.
He’s a smart boy, the one that can go on and on about his current favorite thing and won’t stop until he’s learned everything he there is to know about it. (Right now, it’s all things Dinosaur.)
He’s a handsome boy, the one that takes after his dad the most, with thick wavy hair and dreamy blue eyes.
He’s a sweet boy, the one that gives me at least one daily hug (usually more), especially when he can see that I need it and sometimes when I don’t want it.
He’s a creative boy, the one that has lately been making “choose your own adventure” games with drawings he has done.
He’s the oldest boy, the leader of the pack, the sensitive, caring, sometimes oblivious TEN YEAR OLD.
Happy birthday, Henry.
One of my very first memories is me, talking to my dad, about how "10 years was so very old." I believe I was about six at the time, but, whatever age I happened to be, I thought 10 was what it was all about. It was something to do with double digits and, you know, getting older.
Now, with my own kids? 10 seems impossibly old. But yet so filled with promise . . . I mean, 10 marks the beginnings of adulthood — yeah, I still need my parents, now, but it's entirely different . . . 10 seems to show just where a kid showing independence is far more about "needing to branch out & discover one self" than "defiance."
Enjoy the double digits.
Happy Birthday Henry!!!
Happy Birthday, I can't believe he's 10.