This has been a good year for you - you have laughed lots, learned tons, and continued to be the most loving child ever. I totally BELIEVE you are 7, because how else could you be so brilliant. On the flip side, how is it possible that I have a 7 year old... and am about to have a baby....???
Daphne was the bridge between the big kid and the baby that made it seem less crazy, but when I think about how much you have grown and how big you have gotten and how far we have come since you were born, it seems like too much time has passed to be starting all over again (oh, and when I feel about a MILLION years older than I did when I was pregnant with you - that doesn't help either...).
But the truth is, yes, we are older, but not too old to be starting over, because by many standards, we had you when we were quite young.
Ok, so perhaps not young, but certainly poor and unprepared.
I kid, I kid.
I mean, we were prepared... in what I would like to believe was the most important sense - we were ready to love you beyond belief and make whatever sacrifices we needed to make - but we were not really in a "good financial place" or "settled" by any means. This may be the first birthday you have celebrated where we are (comparatively) both. And I can definitively say that because of the last 7 years with you (and the 4+ with your sister), we are oh so very excited to be adding to our brood.
So what can I say about you today, on your seventh of birthdays... You are wonderful. And yes, I know that isn't new news, so let me give you some examples...
Lord, you and your sister can get each other going. There are times when you guys disappear upstairs and all we can hear from downstairs is non-stop giggling. Just when one of you starts to calm down, the other one will get it going again, and so on and on. You pretty much have that effect on everyone. All I have to do is say (or hear you say) the word "Ploopy") and we will both start laughing, or you dad will make some comment that both makes no sense and is some variation of potty humor, and that smile covers your face and you laugh from your belly. It is contagious.
And then, to top it off, mixed in with all the silliness, I will find a card you made somewhere, for no reason whatsoever, for your sister, that tells her you love her and how great she is. She is so lucky to have a big brother that props her up - even, or rather, especially, when no one else is looking.
You still love school, and are completely enamored with your teacher. I have said it before, but I repeat, we have hit the jackpot two years in a row with you. Your knowledge base is widening - you no longer come home with the basics (ABCs, 123s), but you bring home concepts and ideas and are constantly working to make connections between things you hear in class and things you hear in just everyday life. For example, over the MLK weekend, while in the car, you somewhat randomly (as we were discussing preferences for where to stop for lunch) waxed on quite eloquently about how we are all different on the outside.
And when I made a statement about either you or your sister's confidence (of which there is no shortage), you asked me what the word "confidence" meant. And after I explained that someone with confidence was someone who was certain that they could do what they set their minds to, or accomplish their goals (or something like that), you took a few minutes, then said "so, like, George Washington was confident?" I confirmed that, yes, he was probably someone with confidence. Emboldened, you said, "and Martin Luther King, he was confident, too, huh?".... "yes, I suppose he was". Now, totally comfortable with the word, you asserted "and Abraham Lincoln, he was really confident, too."... Um, yes, yes, I suppose he probably was.
Then there was the time when you told Dad that someone was "determined, just like Eleanor Roosevelt".
And you make me SO proud with how you read. You CONSUME books. You will walk around with one in your hand. You will pack one in your backpack for reading on the way to and from school. When asked by the doctor at your 7 year old well check you said you like non-fiction. Then said you like fiction, too, especially Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Magic Treehouse. This is no lie. You have read MANY books on the solar system, dinosaurs and science, generally. You have also read at least 10 different chapter books by yourself this year, without counting the books we read to/with you. Chapter books read alone include: Diary of a Wimpy Kid 1, 2 and 3; Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and an unknown number of Magic Treehouse (we inherited a large collection of these books from my boss who has a son about 4 years older than you - SCORE!). I love that you love reading, because to this day, I will always be reading SOMETHING. I hope your love of reading serves you well in the many ways I have enjoyed (including being a good standardized test-taker and having a place to escape and quiet your mind).
You continue to grow up, which I suppose should come as no surprise, and yet you remain such a sweet, sensitive little boy. You still offer cuddles and hugs and will hold my hand when we walk someone together (willingly, not begrudgingly, like you sister). You have such a great demeanor and continue to want to be an inclusive and friendly guy to those around you. Recently your dad overheard you and Daphne talking, and she was asserting that she was going to do something or other at your birthday. You said "Only people I invite can come to my birthday" and she asked "Are you going to invite me?" and you replied "Yes, sweetie, of course! I will always invite you to wherever I am."
You are a complete oddball. You do this thing where you kind of randomly walk in to walls and then pretend like you didn't mean to. Your dad and I used to worry about how you would fit in at school, but apparently your kind of humor slays. And if you don't get them with your hilarity, you get them with your kindness. You came home a few weeks ago and went on and on about your "new best friend". She was apparently super nice and super fun and you guys played tag at recess. Intrigued (as my best friend at your age was also of the opposite gender), I asked her name. You looked at me with a blank expression, then a searching look, and answered "I don't know." Apparently, in your defense, she is in another class, and you only met on the playground. Well, it took about a week, but you finally learned her name, and then I learned that you had redeemed a big chunk of your "money" (fake money, awarded for good behavior at school) so you could sit with your new BFF at lunch. This makes me smile every time I think about it.
The other day the home health care nurse came to the house. She comes once a week to give me shots to (hopefully) prevent me from going in to pre-term labor with this last little nugget. You and Daph like to help me be brave, and so stood by me while she gave me the injection. I suppose this was the first time you actually watched the needle go in, because unlike prior weeks where you have been less affected, you suddenly proclaimed (in a weary, woozy voice), "I don't ever want to be pregnant", and almost swooned. The hilarious things that come out of your mouth (intentional and not) never cease to crack me up.
In short - every day with you for the past 7 years have been a treasure, an honor and a privilege.
Happy Birthday, Coop.
We couldn't love you more if we tried.
