Now You Are Seven

Dear Bruiser,

This time last year, you were still my adventurous little kindergartner with a mouth full of baby teeth.

What a difference a year makes.

Between then and now, you’ve shot up several inches, lost most of those baby teeth, and transitioned from a little boy into a big one. And when I look back at the last year, I can’t believe all that you’ve accomplished and experienced.

Kid, we packed a LOT into six.

Your sixth year started off on an… interesting note when you brought home your spring photo from school. Oh, Bruiser.

A few weeks later, you had a little scare, and by some miracle of Mommy Magic, I was able to be right there by your side.

You rejoined the soccer league shortly after you turned six and didn’t seem fazed by the fact that the other boys had more experience. You were just happy to be running and playing, and you always had a huge grin on your face when you were on the field.

You finished up an incredible year of school with a woman whom I’m convinced is one of the nation’s best kindergarten teachers. Her combination of hard work combined with lots and lots of celebrating worked wonders– By the end of the school year, you were reading and writing well, adding and subtracting double digits, and spouting off facts on everything from China to Elvis Presley. In May, you tested at a third grade level in every subject- and while I think you’re a smart boy (I may be biased), I’m convinced that your scores were a direct result of Mrs. Patton’s great teaching.

We had a busy and super fun summer. You went to day camps, visited grandparents, went berry picking, hiked to waterfalls, visited Holiday World and Tell City, Indiana, waded in the creek, explored Mammoth Cave, went to the Nashville Puppet Festival, played in the fountains at Centennial Park, stood atop Lookout Mountain, played with friends, camped overnight at the zoo, and visited Chattanooga. You also starred in a TV show, and you were great in your debut. I confess, although I took lots of pictures, I didn’t write about much of this over the summer- I was too busy living it with you!

Best of all, you learned to swim. YOU LEARNED TO SWIM. After several (hundred) lessons at the YMCA, we found a miracle worker who taught you and your sister in just five days to fearlessly paddle across the entire pool. I could not believe my eyes.

At six, your amazing sense of humor continued to emerge, and you spent much of your free time coming up with funny jokes and silly faces. It’s so much fun watching this part of you develop, and knowing that it will always be a big part of your personality. Everyone loves the funny guy. And even though right now, your punchlines generally include the words “pee,” “poop,” or *gasp*, “butt,” I have faith you’ll grow out of that.

Maybe.

Eventually.

In September, we returned to Walt Disney World for a week, and once again, it was the family trip of a lifetime. For a full seven days, all of the focus was on you and your sister and you both absolutely reveled in it. We rode rides, ate at amazing restaurants, watched live stage shows we’ll never forget, swam every single day, watched fireworks on the beach, talked, laughed, danced, sang- It was SO. MUCH. FUN. And for the first time, we went to Universal Orlando. Specifically, we went to The Wizarding World of Harry Potter.

It was even better than we could possibly have imagined, and I am so glad I packed your Harry Potter robes, just in case. After visiting Hogwarts, painstakingly choosing wands at Ollivanders, drinking butterbeer, and buying toys at the Weasley twins’ joke shop, you were both in Harry Potter Heaven. You wore those robes for the rest of the week.

School started and you became a busy first grader. You came with us to Orlando to shoot another episode of the TV show and saw manatees and held tarantulas and learned magic tricks– It was a week of family experiences that I’ll never forget.

You were the most adorable Darth Vader for Halloween (although you wouldn’t be pleased with my use of the word ‘adorable’ to describe you). You went to see monster trucks and the Nashville Predators and the circus. You had a wonderful Christmas and did a great job as shepherd in the Christmas play. And you became known to millions as The Last One.

As the weather (very, VERY slowly) warmed up and winter turned to spring, I began to notice that you were changing. By the end of your sixth year, you had lost most of your baby teeth and gotten much taller. You had stopped coming into our bed every morning to snuggle (although you still make plenty of middle-of-the-night appearances with tales of zombies). You didn’t want me to read books to you anymore- You said you could do it on your own. Like your sister, you decided to drop ‘Mommy’ and start calling me ‘Mom’ instead.  You– *gasp* — decided you were too old for Spongebob.

You were ready to turn seven- and when I tried to stop you, like I always do, you had a very wise answer that put my worries at ease.

On your birthday, we woke to the sound of your feet hitting the ground in your room across the hall and then a joyful shout of, “I’m already seven!” You scrambled into our room to inform us- and everyone else that day- that you had grown an inch overnight. And who were we to say you hadn’t?

You wore a birthday badge to school that we had found at the party store and you were so proud of that badge- When we brought your class a special birthday snack, we noticed that you kept touching your badge proudly and puffing your chest out. You’re still adorable, Bruiser, although I won’t make you mad by telling you so.

Now, you are seven.

You are a great reader, a hilarious impressionist, a loyal brother, friend, and son. You are passionate and funny and affectionate, and you go at 110% until the moment you close your eyes and immediately fall asleep, completely exhausted.

You are seven and I love you more than the Universe.

Love,

Mom(my)