Then and now...

Dear Spencer,

Yesterday you turned nine years old. I still remember the day you were born like it was yesterday - how can it be that you have been in our lives for a decade?

You are growing up fast and it is rare for me to see glimpses of your "babyness" anymore. With your birthday approaching, I feel as if maybe I have been looking at you a little harder and have had the opportunity twice lately to rewind time back to your toddler days.

A few weeks ago at the cabin, you came out of the river like this....

and it immediately took me back to the time when you were three years old in that river looking the very same way. Your two front teeth are a little bigger now though.

Since you have mastered a bike on two wheels, Dad and I decided it was time for you to pick out an age and size appropriate bike. (The size appropriate part was a point of contention between Dad and I, but that is a story for another day). Here you are on your ninth birthday showing off your new ride.

Which totally reminded me of you on your fourth birthday showing off your new ride. Which is the bike that up until yesterday you had been riding. Sad...I know.

Nine years old....

Some little bits of you at nine years old....

You are a voracious reader. Most nights I find you in your bed with the light still on surrounded by piles of books. And kitties.

You have your Dad's ability to remember lines from movies or TV shows verbatim. You have my ability to remember song lyrics. Though it might seem like it, these two abilities are not inclusive of each other. I can't quote anything to save my life and your Dad never met a song lyric that he could remember.

You can't make a taco with your tongue like Dad, Evan and Hailey can. You and I are stuck with big, fat burrito tongues.

You are not much of a team sport kind of kid. You love swimming and really seem to excel at it. You are good at tennis and just moved up to the next level of lessons. We (mostly Dad) are still trying to pass on the golf bug to you. You gave up baseball this year, but I took you to the batting cages today and you were really hitting the ball well.

You seem to have inherited my bad habit of nail biting and also my tendencies to worry about anything that there is to possibly worry about. I like some times that you are cautious with things, but really don't want you to live your life in fear.

You seem to have inherited your Dad's ability to run on his own time clock. Which means - always late and slower than molasses. I know that Grama Lyn is looking down and laughing at the fact that your Dad was the same way. I get the payback thing - but ME, not Dad - has to bear the brunt of it.

You seem to have some sort of magnetism that draws people to you. You make friends easily and get along with anyone.

I hope you know how incredible we think you are and how much we love you. Happy Birthday my sweet nine year old boy!

Oh, and we must love you a whole bunch because we let you invite seven kids from your class over to spend the night tomorrow. With you and Evan included that makes nine little boys. Heaven help me!

Love, Mom