on his eighth birthday

he knew today was his.  he was happy.  all day.

his dad took him to a boy movie.  just the two of them.

i snuck down after he was asleep with his dirty socks still on.

his room, a mess from remnants of the little boy he was and proof of the

boy he's becoming. 

a train table below his rock n' roll poster.

still sleeping with his baby blanket (shhh ... don't tell him i told you).

he listens to our conversations and understands our humor.  he makes jokes and says grown-up things.  

he's patient as i practice being a mom with him.  i tell him, "mom is learning too."  he seems to understand some of the time.

i'm proud of my boy.  the one who makes me want to pull my hair out.  

i see great things in his future which is approaching probably too quickly.

***

happy birthday son.

i love you so very much.