Joy Boy 7.0

Seven.

I looked at that photo timeline today of my dimple-cheeked baby growing up into a seven-year-old, and I said what I have been saying a lot lately: "How did you get so grown-up?"

Your response to this question a few days ago was, "Everyone keeps being surprised at how tall and old I am.  But c'mon.  Eli is ten!"

So yes, we have a ten-year-old in the house, and that is shocking.  Thanks for putting that in perspective.

This year has brought even more comfort in your own skin, a mellowing of maturity that still sparkles with your silliness.  You are a fun fellow to see grow up.  Some of the things that we've been enjoying lately:

You and Eli could read Diary of a Wimpy Kid books 'til your stomachs hurt from laughing so hard.

You write stories about the good guys catching crooks.

You choose birthday treats like french breakfast muffins for school, apple pie to hold your seven candles.

You always have a rhythm in your head that usually comes out with a tapping foot or slapping hand if you aren't near your drums.

You've basically taught yourself the first year's worth of piano lessons.

You are the first one ready for the day, the first one done with homework, the first one to swoop in proactively and with patience to help Julian.

You've had your seventh birthday party planned out since March.  (Your typed lists sure have helped the preparation process!)

You go to your favorite Bible passages on nights when you are afraid.

You are skilled at seeing more than meets the eye, especially when it comes to people and how the world works.

You know just how to make your parents feel special and loved.  One of my favorite parts of my day is the bedtime Toby snuggle.

I had fun typing your birthday post this year, because I know that this year, you'll be able to read it.  So now that you've gotten this far, turn around, 'cause your mama needs to hug her seven-year-old.

We love you, Joy Boy.