This Boy

Turned 6 years old on Friday.




It seems to me that he has grown into a kid, a boy, this year. Not a baby or a little boy any more. A boy.

He loves school. He loves to ride the bus because he gets to see his friends. He does math at home with us because he thinks it's fun. He bounces through the door everyday with stories about his friends, the songs they sang in music class that day, the library book he picked out (non-fiction, he points out), information about the hot lunch, or the schedule for the week.

He loves to read. Especially books about science and history. He can quote them, too ("Mom, did you know that

He loves his friends. He spent four nights with his best friend while we were in Michigan. I asked him on the phone one night if he wanted to come. He informed me that he "wanted to stay there forever." He did pretty well on his first report card - except for the 2s that he got in "works independently" (too distracted by his friends) and "listening" (talking to his friends).

He loves his family. He plays with Evelyn and tries to teach her. He loves to hold Lily and give her hugs and kisses at night. He is still my little Momma's boy and is happiest snuggled up next to me on the couch. When I picked him up after said 4 day trip, he attached himself to my leg and got a little teary eyed, then asked to go home.

He is learning to try new things. He thrives on order, on knowing what comes next (he hates new-to-him movies because he doesn't know what's going to happen) and on having a plan. But he's trying - he jumped right into kindergarten, he played soccer in the fall and is back in ice skating now. He surpises me by trying new food at dinner (sometimes even without being threatened with no dessert). He is trying.

We love you, Luke.