Nine

It's just about impossible to think about, but Gavin turned nine on Saturday. A part of him growing up, maturing, is displayed in how he reacts to exciting situations. He was cool and calm on the outside, in anticipation of his celebrations. But on the inside he was turning cartwheels. I could tell by the twinkle in his eyes.

That is the way with him... he is twinkly and bright, and at the same time wise and insightful.

His twinkly-bright self indulged in all of his favorites on Friday evening... spaghetti, football and video games. His favorite friend (who happens to be twins... they count as ONE best friend though... just ask him, he'll tell you in no uncertain terms) stayed the night. His first sleepover was a success. Although he worried about it a bit, before the big day... he what-iffed himself into a little bit of stress. In the end, it was just fine.

I have to admit that it was a little bit difficult for me to stand back a little more on his birthday; to let him run and do all of the things that 9-year-old boys do with their friends... That is, until I couldn't contain myself anymore... and when the boys were having a snack, we talked about the time of day Gavin was born. I do that on all of the little people's birthdays... hop into the way-back machine and recall that other time and place... try to bring those thoughts and feelings and places back to the surface if even just for a moment or two.

All of the boys talked about what time they were born. I think Gavin liked that... maybe it reminded him that other kids have moms who like to remember similarly odd things, like the time of day when they first met their babies and were able to look into the depths of their child's eyes and see the future. Mom's don't forget those things... no matter how wise and insightful, that is something a 9-year-old boy can't understand... yet he indulged me in my memories of that day, nine years ago... because that's the way with him.