Child number 3 turns 8 today.
I still *think* he’s 4. A super brilliant 4 that can read and play sports and show kindness to others. But 4, none-the-less.
I’ve got a problem this way. I can’t wrap my mind around the rapid movement of time in regards to my children.
My #3 is my gentle spirited child who was my saving grace when my twins were born. He was only 22 months old when they were born, and if he had been like most 22 month old children, I think I might have seriously gone a bit crazy. When feedings took over an hour, or I was pacing the floor trying to get them to stop crying, he would sit nearby patiently waiting for his turn. He brought me clothes and diaper for the twins. He took naps when I asked him to. He was just so incredibly GOOD.
I seriously get tears in my eyes when I think about what a quiet and obedient child he was at a time when I really needed one. I recall taking him the the pediatricians for a regular growth check and being asked if he X number of words. I was taken aback. He had no where near the vocabulary he should have had at that age. In fact, he only had a handful, and I hadn’t even noticed because he was just that skilled at non-verbal communication. Rather than chit chatting up a storm, he has always sat back and observed what was going on around him. A more intuitive child would be hard to come by!
I’m so grateful for my special 8 year old who gave up his bottle and potty trained ON HIS OWN on the same day, and managed to tell me this without words.
I’m thankful that even though words aren’t necessarily his “medium” he makes an effort to use them even though he’d rather not. And that he’s mine. I’m one lucky mama.
Happy Birthday, Garrett. May this year be your best yet.