Big 8 year old

Eight years ago,

our son was born.

He was impatient...

wanted to get here much sooner

than the day of his actual arrival,

but we were able to talk him out of it

and he was born only 6 days earlier

than his due date.

He was easy on me in the end...

three pushes and voila!

We had our little Booter Boy.

He lay on my belly looking right at me,

the expression on his face calm

and his eyes seemed old and wise

for a newborn.

I fell instantly in love with him,

and I've grown to love him

more and more every single day.

The little turkey. 

:)

He scored two movies from Maya for his birthday.

(He loves Monster House so she gave him his own copy,)

and Steven and I bought him a stereo with an iPod dock.

He's taking Trevor to Adventure Landing,

(a cool arcade with laser tag, mini golf and go karts)

on Wednesday night.

We're gonna eat pizza and watch all three kids

tear around the place for a couple of hours,

fueled by caffeine, sugar and pure excitement.

It's hard to believe that eight years have passed

since this child was born.

Although thinking about Scott's being eight

isn't hard on me.

He acts closer to ten a great deal of the time.

It's the actual passing of eight years

and all that's taken place in that time

that I find hard to wrap my head around.

Ah...big sisters.

What would we do without them?

After a dinner of lasagna and cheesy garlic bread,

(Scotty's choice,)

we had another round of candles.

(We do all the good stuff twice around this house.)

I don't know what Scotty wished for,

but my wish for him

is that he continues to be the wonderful,

sweet, creative, noisy, funny,

artistic, huggable, adorable, thoughtful

 little monkey that he's always been.

Oh, 

and that he starts picking up the clothes

that he leaves in the bathroom

and that Maya kicks in the hallway 

each and every night after he takes his shower.

But I'll take what I can get.