but I'm going to say it anyway.
How is my baby boy SEVEN years old??
Also, why does seven feel so big? It's like I could pass six off as "still sort of a preschooler" in my head, but seven? Not a chance. He's a big kid. I'm the mom of a big kid.
It feels so weird, guys.
He's kind and friendly. He's a leader. He's silly and goofy and likes to say crazy things just for the heck of it.
The other day we were buckling the others into the van so we could go to the store, and he walked out with this amazed look in his eyes and said, "Oh, I just never thought this day would come!"
"What day??" I asked, laughing.
"Oh just this one," and then he buckled his seat belt.
Easy enough, sweet boy.
He seemed okay with that, but asked for several other things too.
We got him lots of little things (candy, a box of his favorite cereal--Tiny Toast, a t-shirt) and let him open all of those first. He was completely satisfied and happy with all of that. The last present we let him open was a life jacket.
And then I pretended like we'd forgotten a present, something to go with the life jacket.
Kent carried his kayak around the corner.
A couple of days after his birthday we drove up to my parents house and spent the weekend, including a trip to Bear Lake.
These summer birthdays--lucky boy gets to stretch it out over several days and several parties and you know what?
He deserves it all.
Happy Seven, Nick!