The arrival of the double digits.
Yes, the day we have long dreaded and eagerly anticipated is upon us. Tomorrow, we will celebrate Andrew's TENTH birthday. I can scarcely believe we are old enough to have a child with two digits to his age, and I'm at a loss to explain how we've come so quickly from cradling our very first newborn to asking our eldest of four if he might be interested in a club that will explore a profession in which he recently expressed interest. (Said profession will go unnamed, since he was a little irked at my mentioning it in front of his brother this afternoon). I can't for the life of me figure out how the last DECADE has slipped away. My baby is growing so quickly, halfway to twenty already. I know, I know... I shouldn't get too far ahead of myself.
The years from now to twenty will likely pass as quickly as the years from zero to ten have, and my emotions can't quite handle the thought of my young son (who requests I not act so foolishly as to refer to him as "my sweet baby boy") being all grown up and on his own. On the other hand, here we are, on the brink of ten. That means we have already survived many milestones, and life marches undauntedly onward. As he grows, I find myself too busy enjoying the child - unless he is now more accurately called a youth - that IS (except maybe in the midst of a Saxon Math lesson, when he is not entirely easy to "enjoy," but that's a very special exception for which he most certainly can be excused for falling slightly shy of Mr. Sunshine, as I'm sure a few of you will agree)...
Oops, sorry for that. As I was saying, I find myself so enjoying the youth that is that I have little inclination to mourn the baby that was. Despite his all-too-understandable aversion to mathematics, Andrew is a great kid. He is curious, observant, thoughtful, intelligent, creative, resourceful, funny, and increasingly responsible as he helps around the house, works in the community garden, or helps his younger siblings. In short, he's a really neat kid, and I wouldn't trade the privilege of spending these years watching him grow into a man for a lifetime of cuddling a newborn Andrew, as precious to me as the memory of his infancy is.
When he blows out the ten candles, I may very well shed a few tears over time never to be recaptured, but mostly, I will cherish the moment at hand, this fleeting moment of youth in which my boy loves Legos, devours fantasy fiction, and climbs trees with little thought of turning twenty and leaving his mother to wonder what happened to the last two decades.
Happy TENTH Birthday, Andrew!
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