Dear Scorch-

Happy, happy birthday! I say this every year, but it boggles my mind that you’re turning 7.  7 is half way to 14 and a third of the way to 21 and that right there makes my head explode. Those ages seem so far away, but look how fast the past 7 years have gone! Sometimes I worry that if I blink, I’m going to miss something.

I’m sure I told you this before, but when I was pregnant with you I was convinced I was having a girl.  I don’t know why- but I was sure. And then you were born. And when the doctor told me it was a boy, I was disappointed- there was a pang in my heart and a lifetime of pink and bows and girl talk flashed before my eyes.  But then I saw you and in an instant all that disappointment was gone. I wouldn’t have cared if you were half donkey at that point- you were mine and I was yours and that was all that mattered.  And that is all that has mattered these past 7 years.

When you were younger, your Dad and I thought for sure we had you pegged. When you grew up, you were going to be a sports announcer. Or a paleontologist. Or a fireman. Now, we don’t have a clue. And that’s awesome. While I do miss the baby you were, I’m so stinking excited to see where life takes you. You’re curious about everything and you read book about everything from Star Wars to bird watching. You want to know more and more about what you hear in the news or read on the magazine covers in the check out line of the grocery store.  You want to know how to spell everything and I saw your eyes light up last night when I explained to you that “quesadillas” starts with a “q” and not a “c” like it sounds. Who knows- maybe you’ll be a teacher or a linguist.

Six was an awesome year for you. You finished kindergarten and started 1st grade and you continued to thrive in school. You played Little League and football and discovered that you’re absolutely crazy about basketball. You fought Darth Maul and kicked his butt.  You battled your anxiety every damn day to keep moving forward and, even when it was hard and scary, you didn’t stop. You still wanted to hold my hand, but you worried about what your friends would think if they saw you still holding a stuffed animal.  You realized that you don’t need one best friend in the world and that you can be friends with everyone- so you are.  Walking through the school hallways with you is like walking with the Mayor as you’re greeted by everyone from the 3 year olds to 6th graders.  And all of that makes me so proud some days that I just want to burst.

But as much as I’d like to freeze time, I can’t and now you’re 7. And I can’t wait to see what 7 brings for you. Here is what I wish for you-
– I wish that you keep your kind heart. Right now you’re nice to everyone and I don’t ever want that to stop. I want you to have compassion and goodness and to hold on to those traits until you take your last breath.
– I wish that you find that fine line between being a rule follower and an a dare devil. I hope you realize what rules must be followed and which rules you can break and I hope you learn to embrace your adventurous side. As your mom, I always want to keep you safe and within the boundaries, but as a woman who’s lived almost 35 years, I know some of the most fun you’ll ever have is when you say “screw it” and hop off the beaten path.
– I wish you the strength to keep battling your anxiety so you can live life with as little fear as possible.
– I wish you the continued knowledge of your self.  To know that you’re a good, kind, smart boy who doesn’t need validation from your peers to love yourself. You. Are. Awesome.
– I wish that your relationship with your sister continues to be so close. I tell you guys this all the time, but you’re stuck with each other forever and that is one of the best gifts we could have ever given you. Trust me on that- even when she’s calling you a butt head and throwing your things in the back of the van just to piss you off- you’re lucky.
– I wish that you know that you’ll always have your father and my love. No matter what the reason- a failed test, a lost game, a friend hurt, a relationship lost- we’ll always love you, support you and be by your side. Promise.
– I wish that you keep using your manners with everyone. There is nothing that will serve you better in this life than your manners and your kindness. Be respectful to your elders and your friends. Pay attention when we talk to you about how to treat people and always, always tip well for good service. You will never, ever regret doing any of those things but you may regret it if you don’t.

Let’s face it, buddy- I wish you the world and I love you more than chocolate milk.  Have a happy, happy birthday!

When Scorch was 3, we enrolled him in pre-school. At the Open House a few weeks before school started, Scorch met  E and they’ve been best friends ever since. E and Scorch went to preschool together for 2 years before they went to different elementary schools for kindergarten. But thanks to small town living, it’s a rarity that the boys go longer than a week without seeing each other so their BFF status remains unchanged.  When Scorch started kindergarten, he met T, a new kid in his class.  So quickly Scorch had a school best friend (T) and another best friend (E) and all was well.

Well- all was well until E and T met through Scorch and then they became best friends too.  So over the past few months there has been lots of talk and tears and learning over what it means to be best friends with different people and how the dynamic sometimes changes when there are 3 little boys involved- each of whom are learning how to be good friends and have the maturity of a gnat.

This past weekend, Scorch had a playdate with E- just the two of them. And somehow they got on the topic of T and how sometimes it is hard to figure out who plays with who when the three of them get together.  E’s Mom told me that E got a little upset during the conversation, so he went up to his room and locked the everyone out, but that Scorch handled it just fine and was a good friend who got E smiling again before long.

On our drive home from the playdate, I complimented Scorch for being a good friend and for working hard to make E feel better.  Then I asked him what he did to get E smiling again.

Oh- it was easy! First, I went into his room, jumped into his dirty laundry basket, smelled his dirty clothes and told them they were delicious. Then I did a couple of arm farts and that did the trick.

So what I’m saying is, I think Pres. Obama may have a thing or two to learn from my kid when it comes to softening up the other side.

On Sunday we took the kids to mass as we always* do. As Catholics, this past week was really exciting with the election of the new Pope.  As Catholics with kids in a parochial school it was even more exciting because the kids were really into learning about the different Cardinals and trying to guess who would be the next leader of the church. According to Scorch, each class bet on who the winner would be (Scorch’s money was on Cardinal from Africa).  Scorch’s excitement carried over to mass this weekend as he vowed to pay closer attention to what was going on.

I was all for that until the questions started:

1) Mom, what’s a prostitute?

2) Why did Jesus go to hell for 3 days? Who usually goes to hell?

3) Why isn’t Father married? Can’t priests get married?

Really, kid? Really? You start paying attention for the first time in 6 years and these are the questions you start with?  I think we’ll stick with the nursery until I’m old enough to answer his questions!

*90% of the time.

Scorch is wearing a pair of sock today that, unbeknownst to me, has a hole in the toe.  Throughout the course of the evening, he’s picked at that little hole and made it into one big hole that three of his toes can stick out of.  It’s not a big deal- the socks are cheap 10 pack from Target and frankly, I don’t know how to darn / sew- so I told him to throw them in the garbage before bed. You would have thought I told him to go out and shoot the dog.

“No, Mom. These are special socks. I’m going to keep them in their own box and only bring them out on special occasions. Like Sundays.”

Oh…well, I had no idea. So glad he shared the specialness of his holy socks with me. Hope he’s not too disappointed when they share that specialness at the local dump soon!

So, Scorch has been 6 for roughly 3/4th of the year- and of 90% of that time, I’ve loved 6.  6 still wants to hold your hand and is funny as all get out. 6 is sweet and helpful and so eager to learn everything. 6 begs for chore charts so he can earn money to buy things. 6 doesn’t really throw fits anymore and is willing to go with the flow. 6 loves to tell a good joke and is more then obsessed with Star Wars.  6 frequently gets side tracked by books and legos and other shiny things when all you want him to do is get dressed, for crying out loud. But 6 is so funny about being redirected, you really don’t mind.

What 6 stinks at is taking responsibility for himself.

Take for instance, this afternoon. Scorch climbed up on the kitchen while I was doing laundry. When I came back upstairs I made him get down- and, in doing so, he pulled some papers off the counter. Not a big deal at all- but I told him to pick them up.  He told me the papers falling wasn’t his fault, it was my fault because I made him get down.

All right then.

Or how about the time he slipped and fell on a puzzle piece that he and the Bean were working on.  He slipped after I told him twice to watch out and pick that up before he got hurt. The fall- my fault because I didn’t yell at him and make him pick it up.

Perhaps that little personality trait comes at 7.

Please tell me it comes at age 7.