Because I hope someday you'll actually want to read some of your mama's musings about you and your sister's childhood, I thought I'd write you a letter to celebrate your 8th birthday. I want you to know what you're like right now -- as a just-turned-8-year-old.
So -- right now -- in this snapshot in time, here are just a few of the things I know to be true about you. You are bossy, but caring. You're observant and you worry a lot. You worry about other babies. You worry about your pet hermit crabs. Naturally, you worry about your sister. Of course you can also get easily frustrated and annoyed by Sofia too. And sometimes, when you're super stressed out, you break down and cry for no apparent reason. You still trust me to tell me everything that's going on. You ususally confide in me during the evening routine-- what's going on that's really upsetting you.
You do laugh a lot too. Sometimes you and your sister get to giggling and it's contagious. Next thing you know, we're all laughing. You ask me hilarious questions out of the blue, like, "When will I get hairy balls, Mom?" (You really asked me that last week. I nearly spit out my drink.) You're my little helper. When you see that I'm overwhelmed with laundry, you offer to help fold clothes.
You LOVE to sing! (Just like me!) :) You have started really enjoying singing with Abby, your now-15-year-old cousin who is staying with us this summer. She has gotten you hooked on a band called My Chemical Romance, and we're all going to the concert together this weekend. Your dad and I took you to see Dave Matthews Band when you were just a little tiny guy (probably 4 months old), and you have seen Elizabeth Mitchell at Jammin' Java. But this is your first DC concert! I'm going to make you wear earplugs. You'll probably fight me on that one, but don't worry -- I'll win, although you will display some seriously impressive negotiation tactics.
You love playing a video game called Guitar Hero; you love riding your skateboard at the skate park; and you love riding your bike. You have a blast hanging out with your best friends -- Ethan, Luca, Anna, and Randy.
You love the little ice guns I bought you at the Crime & Punishment Museum last week. You have been freezing all kinds of juices and sodas to make ice pops this summer, and you were upset I wouldn't buy you a gun for your birthday, so I bought you ice cube trays in the form of guns and said those were the only guns I'd buy you -- the melting kind. You love them -- thank goodness!
You have an amazing memory and you're really good at "thing management," as your father calls it -- remembering where you put stuff. You must get that from him because Lord knows you do not get that from me. :) You're also a pretty serious tattletale at the moment. We're trying to help you understand only to tattle when someone might be in danger, and in other cases, try to brainstorm solutions to problems on your own. But your worrying comes into full effect on the tattle front, and you argue that someone could get hurt nearly every time you tattle. :)
You balk at the whopping hour of homework I ask you to do each day, but you love reading at the end of the day. Last night you read Snowflake Bentley, and tonight we're starting a nonfiction book called Bud and Me: The True Adventures of the Abernathy Boys. I wonder if you'll remember Horses and if you'll play it with your kids someday. You are wanting more and more independence all the time, and as scary as it is to give it to you, I know it's going to be okay. You're growing up. Holy cow, I can't believe you're 8! In 8 more years, you'll be driving, and I bet by then, I will go completely gray! I'm just thankful you still want me to tuck you in at the end of every day and you still insist on snuggling for TWO minutes -- "TWO minutes Mom. I want to play with your hair for two minutes." :) You have twirled my hair to fall asleep since you were a baby.
I used to call you Gaby Baby or my Boog, and I know you'd be horrified if I called you that now. I also know I embarrass you sometimes by laughing too loud in movie theaters. "Mom, can you try not to laugh so loud?" Awww, little guy! What I'd prefer is for you to let go and laugh a little more. And not be so serious. But I suppose this is your personality. We'll see if it changes over the years...I love you, Gabe! Don't grow up too fast on me! :) xoxoxoxo, Mom
1 comment:
:) That made me cry. You're brilliant.
Post a Comment