Nine years old
Sweet Aden. You're nine today.
This morning I read through all your birthday posts on the blog, remembering you and the last nine precious years. How you've always been just you, quizzical and determined, compassionate and strong. The way you even still bring joy and excitement into every day. The way you challenge and delight us in ways we never knew were possible.
You're slowly maturing even though you haven't changed a lot since last year. How I cherish these moments of stability, knowing that every coming growth spurt will make you bigger, more independent, different. This is not a bad thing at all, buddy. It's just that I very much love you right now, and I'm learing the hard way how fleeting is the right now.
Legos are no longer king, replaced by Nerf guns and, of all things, the Rubix cube. You can solve one side in impressively quick fashion. As for the Nerf guns, there is no corner of the house without a blue and orange bullet. The hooks in your closet are no longer enough, and half of the guns are too big to hang up anyway.
School was a struggle for you, especially toward the end of the year. Studying and homework are as repulsive to you as cleaning up after yourself, and we battled plenty around the table on weeknights. You're so very smart, loving nonfiction books and videos and able to spit out facts like nobody's business. But when it's forced...not your mojo.
You have days of massive energy and others when you just want to veg out. Screens have stolen some of your motivation, but once you put your mind to it, the creativity just flows. You still love our secret game in all its forms, and I love getting to hang out with you like this. You fight going to sleep and fight getting up in the mornings. Staying up late makes you feel oh so grown up.
You have a taste for the finer things, describing how when you're grown up you'll have a basketball court in your house, a Lamborghini in the driveway, and only have to work every once in a while. Constantly browsing Amazon for hoverboards or gaming setups, begging for trips to Walmart or Best Buy, no idea where on earth in your disaster of a room that you would put all the stuff you want to bring home.
Music is your thing, and when it's on, it's loud. Usually with your loud and very on-key voice following along. You still play at drums and piano, and will break into dance every once in a while. You have no preferred genre, really. Daddy's rap, Trey's pop, and Mama's Jesus songs are all just fine with you.
You are charming and funny and so much like your Daddy it's crazy. Those blue eyes still get me every time, and how thankful I am that you'll still hug me, kiss my cheek, and tell me you love me. You're growing in strength and knowledge and your walk with the Lord. You are of infinite value to Him, to your parents and grandparents.
Happy birthday, Aden. Daddy and I just couldn't love you more.
This morning I read through all your birthday posts on the blog, remembering you and the last nine precious years. How you've always been just you, quizzical and determined, compassionate and strong. The way you even still bring joy and excitement into every day. The way you challenge and delight us in ways we never knew were possible.
You're slowly maturing even though you haven't changed a lot since last year. How I cherish these moments of stability, knowing that every coming growth spurt will make you bigger, more independent, different. This is not a bad thing at all, buddy. It's just that I very much love you right now, and I'm learing the hard way how fleeting is the right now.
Legos are no longer king, replaced by Nerf guns and, of all things, the Rubix cube. You can solve one side in impressively quick fashion. As for the Nerf guns, there is no corner of the house without a blue and orange bullet. The hooks in your closet are no longer enough, and half of the guns are too big to hang up anyway.
School was a struggle for you, especially toward the end of the year. Studying and homework are as repulsive to you as cleaning up after yourself, and we battled plenty around the table on weeknights. You're so very smart, loving nonfiction books and videos and able to spit out facts like nobody's business. But when it's forced...not your mojo.
You have days of massive energy and others when you just want to veg out. Screens have stolen some of your motivation, but once you put your mind to it, the creativity just flows. You still love our secret game in all its forms, and I love getting to hang out with you like this. You fight going to sleep and fight getting up in the mornings. Staying up late makes you feel oh so grown up.
You have a taste for the finer things, describing how when you're grown up you'll have a basketball court in your house, a Lamborghini in the driveway, and only have to work every once in a while. Constantly browsing Amazon for hoverboards or gaming setups, begging for trips to Walmart or Best Buy, no idea where on earth in your disaster of a room that you would put all the stuff you want to bring home.
Music is your thing, and when it's on, it's loud. Usually with your loud and very on-key voice following along. You still play at drums and piano, and will break into dance every once in a while. You have no preferred genre, really. Daddy's rap, Trey's pop, and Mama's Jesus songs are all just fine with you.
You are charming and funny and so much like your Daddy it's crazy. Those blue eyes still get me every time, and how thankful I am that you'll still hug me, kiss my cheek, and tell me you love me. You're growing in strength and knowledge and your walk with the Lord. You are of infinite value to Him, to your parents and grandparents.
Happy birthday, Aden. Daddy and I just couldn't love you more.
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