Seven.

Dear Colin,

Well this is embarrassing.  It's almost February and I am just doing this now.  It's been so long that I almost tried to give myself the excuse that I should just forget it and make the announcement that these birthday letters for you guys end at 6 years old.  Which is just ridiculous because it was always my intention to continue these for you for every year that I am able - so, that's what we'll do.  Even if it's brutally late, or maybe short, I'm going to get some words out.

You are the best 7 year old I have ever had the pleasure to know.  I don't know if there was anything revolutionary or transformative in you between the age of 6 or 7 or if it was rather just a consistent and steady increase of maturity, calmness, rationality and patience.  Regardless of whether or not it was a switch over night or a work in progress, it is appreciated.  You are my steady state, my constant and my calm.  You rarely get upset, rarely cause problems and usually are the peacekeeper that your sisters desperately need.

It is an odd transition for a parent, when you realize that your child doesn't really need you anymore.  Don't get me wrong - you still need me for MANY things, but the basic stuff, you don't need.  You don't need help with clothes or shoes, don't need reminders or help in the bathroom, don't need help getting a snack, don't need me to help you get your hockey stuff on. Believe me, it is nice to not be needed every second of the day (especially when I have others who still do), but that doesn't change the fact that it just feels odd.  Especially when I think about the fact that as every year ticks by, you are going to need me less and less, big or small.  I am so impressed with your independance, your drive to learn and master new skills, and your ability to lead.  You are a true first born.

There is nothing a parent likes to hear more than the praise of their child from their teacher.  During the week you are at school for more hours a day than you are at home and there I am so proud of the reputation you have built for yourself at school.  We constantly hear about your kindness of others, your work ethic and how willing you are to help others.  There are no other traits that I wished more for you and at each parent teacher interview, each chance encounter with a teacher, it is like music to my ears to hear how much they appreciate and enjoy having them in your classroom. 

The other day you asked to speak to me "in private" (which by itself made my ears raise).  When we got into my room and closed the door, you asked me a simple question.  If you and I could go somewhere just us.  It made my heart swell to think about the fact that you still wanted/needed some time with just me, but also made me it hurt just a bit.  Sometimes I worry about the amount of time I spend working, the amount of time I spend distracted, the amount of times I feel pulled in a million directions.  I worry that each time I choose something that takes me away from you that you are mentally calculating a total to one day throw back in my face with feelings of resentment and neglect.  I don't think there is a parent in the world who hasn't felt the same at some point - because it never feels like enough.  Even though I hardly ever miss an activity or event of yours, even though I am there almost every morning and most bedtimes, it never seems like enough.  There just isn't enough hours in the day to be involved in as many things as we are and also have multiple opportunities a week to wind down and relax together or spend time just you and I. But that doesn't mean I will ever stop trying.  And ultimately, you can always know that even though I am not always there, or even though it may seem like sometimes I am choosing others, I would ALWAYS choose you.

You are a special boy.  You at 7 are exactly what I always hoped and prayed for in a 7 year old child.  You make me so incredibly proud.

Love you to the moon & back x7,

Mama
xoxo