To the boy whole stole my heart...and calls me Mom...

My boy turned 7 on the 25th of March.
This is the child that I look at and stand silenced by how fast time goes by.
How quickly time just picks up and runs and you just keep sprinting to get ahead of it, so you can tell it to stop...hold on one second...don't go so fast...please give me a little bit more time!

He is reading.
He sits there and he sounds out words like a champion.
The lights in his head have been going on like giant spotlights to a stage where he is the star.
He focuses. He smiles so proudly. His mind, a sponge.

He writes words he knows and wants to share on little pieces of paper.
'Mom and me.'
 'I love football.'
' I am nice.'

I adore his heart.
His giant sensitive and gracious heart.

I admire his focus.
He can sit. He sits honed in on what has captured his interest.
He will seek completion and is so intent on this task.

I love his quiet questions.
His imploring questions with such thought and honesty.
'Mommy, so what do boys do with their eyebrows? Am I supposed to take care of these?'
'Mommy, why do you think people do really unkind things to others?'
'Mommy, why do girls like to get flowers? They just die.'

He plays hard.
He dreams so much harder.

When his brother cries...unless inflicted and justified by him, he is the first responder on site.
He plays with his Jake. He teaches his Jake. He doesn't take crap from his Jake. He leans on his Jake. And he confides in his Jake.

He is the next great fashion designer of his time.
He has a great interest and eye for what he chooses to wear.
He instructs the hair stylist in just how he wants his hair 'shaped up.' What number and what product.
One of his favorite activities is getting to choose new clothes or shoes.
I can only hope to reap the benefits...someday. Right now he could care less what I wear. 

He loves to watch football.
He absorbs the rules of the game and can give you the play by plays.

He is starting to love hockey.
Tells me he would be an awesome hockey player if he could only learn how to skate.
His smile certainly looks like one now.

He enamores his big sister.
She gets under his skin, but he keeps patience longer then I even think is fair for her.
Sister better watch it...her brother is going to be drooled over by all her dear friends.

He is an artist.
His attention to detail.
His ability to tell a story with a drawing.
I love to post his art all over the place. It is so very frameable because it is so very adorable.

He is my first son.
I find boys fascinating.
Watching them grow.
Watching them do things that boys do.
Watching them interact.
Watching them eat. All day. Everything. Bowl upon bowl upon bowl of cereal.
I am like the zoo keeper sitting and watching the gorillas. Could do it all day long.

He is all lanky.
Long legs, neck, arms. His fingers long.
He will be so very tall. The nights when the growth spurts hit are so very long for him.
We spend lots of time soaking in a warm tub. Rubbing the back, arms, and legs until the advil finally kicks in and he can rest those stretching bones.

He walks with his hands in his pocket.
He smirks.
He giggles quietly.
He is a man of few words.
But screams when there is injustice.
He cannot eat too much candy.
Especially cotton candy. Do not give this child cotton candy. I swear its exorcist like behavior. I am not sure whether to run or take on the beast. I always lose. No matter what option. I need to invest in a straight jacket.

He is an observer.
Watches quietly before summing the courage to do it himself.
He hesitates before trying something new.

I love him madly.
I cannot believe he is 7.
His big brown eyes melt me.
His olive skin and smile with a dimple already have little girls chasing him on the playground.

My Ethan Thomas.
My sensitive soul.
I couldn't be prouder and I love you more each day.

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