My Son is Seven

Seven. It’s the magic number…(everyone…sing along!) Oh wait, I think that’s six.

He was actually 4 or 5 here.

He was actually 4 or 5 here.

My son is now seven. And it is a magical thing, because boys are magical—if you are able to stop and just see it. The kids are with their Dad for the week (God help me) and I have been able to gain perspective with a bit of distance. I don’t like the distance—write that down—but there are good things about it.

As I was thoroughly cleaning his room, I am reminded of him everywhere I look.
He wanted Transformers for his birthday, but we quickly realized even I cannot change the robot into the truck in under 30 minutes without swearing. He is slowly giving up his Thomas the Tank Engine phase, which started only 2 years ago. He still loves playing dress-up but only if the costume is right-in-front-of-his-face. He cannot be bothered to look for the costume. He really enjoyes Legos but gets frustrated easily.

The amount of energy this child has could power the world for a year.

He loves it when you read to him, but don’t expect him to sit quietly at the same time. Instead you will see him go from this side of the bed to that side, to OFF the bed to get another toy, to have 2 toys engage in conversation with each other then suddenly…”Wait Momma. How can Jack and Annie go into the Jungle at night without a flashlight?” proving he was paying very close attention the whole time.

He loves to play any board game or card game. He also still loves to SPINNNNN wildly around the living room like he did when he was 2. When he watches TV, rarely is he sitting on his butt. More likely he is sitting on his head. He never walks. Never.

He loves playing video games but always makes sure his sister is close by to “help” him get to the next level. He absolutely loves babies. We have a friend who has 12 cats. That’s right, 12. When we visit, you can see him sitting amongst his pride, like a Momma Lion.

I’ve mentioned more than a 1,000 times, “You cannot attack-hug people.” This is when you run up to a friend and suddenly give them a fierce hug. He will eat all your food—like that of a teenager—when he is going through a growth spurt. ALL OF IT. He is the same height as his sister who is 3 years older than him and is one of the tallest in his class.

He’s not so fond of his sister’s pet snake. He’d rather have a dog. He tells me he is big enough to go to the playground by himself (100 yards away) but often asks me to read my book by his nightlight as he falls asleep. He also doesn’t like to let go when I hug him goodnight.

He doesn’t like to play by himself. He craves attention and people. The kids come home from school while I am still working and I was getting frustrated when he would ask 100 times, “Can you play NOW?” What I find works is for him to play next to me. Just having me there is enough. He is getting very strong. He is my go-to-guy to help me carry out the garbage, bring in groceries, or do the laundry in the complex basement.

He and I like the same kind of music—mostly classic rock. But anything with a good guitar lick or strong drumline will do. He tells me his favorite is Stevie Ray Vaughn. Everytime he writes or draws, he sticks out his tongue and licks his lips. Everytime. His favorite thing to eat is Mac & Cheese.

My little boy isn’t so little anymore. I can’t pick him up but I still have to cut his meat. I cannot give him a piggy-back-ride, but I still have to help him zip his jacket sometimes. He can pop a wheelie on his bike but if he scraps his knee he still wants me to kiss it.

Don’t grow up so fast. Slow down.

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