And he is one-of-a-kind.
He has grown so much over this past year...he can now do a cartwheel, ride his bike without training wheels, jump into the deep end, and read me a book.
He is a big first grader - an expert at making turkey and cheese and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and riding the bus.
He loves science and learning (but doesn't really like homework). He loves Phineas and Ferb. He loves to laugh and make me laugh. He has perfected the art of sarcasm and thinks it is funny to take everything literally. Don't dare say you are thirsty without expecting a "Hi, Thirsty! Nice to meet you!" And when you say "What?", you have "The Curse" (whatever that is). He notices everything and remembers everything. He is gentle; he is smart. And he is good at antagonizing his sister.
He won't volunteer to go on stage when given the opportunity, but he is brave enough to try the roller coaster, even if it isn't his favorite.
He lost three teeth this year and has two very loose ones at the moment - one that we have tried to pull out every night for the past week or so that we call his snaggle tooth.
He doesn't have a favorite food, but he does like chicken divan and hummus and pizza and dessert and he asked for spaghetti and meatballs and "a little salad" for his birthday dinner.
He used a real drill for the first time on Tuesday.
This little boy still sleeps with Mr. Giraffe. And he still needs me to tuck him in at night. And he still holds my hand. And he still tells me he loves me.
But this little boy is getting bigger. And I don't just mean in the height and weight sense of the word, though that is true, too.
He is getting bigger problems and bigger abilities. He is getting bigger ideas and bigger dreams and a bigger sense of himself.
I can see that who he is shapes his decisions more than I do these days. And though that isn't always easy for me, that is the way it should be.
This little boy turns seven today. He is one of a kind. And I love him so.
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