Somehow it’s been 7 years since Asher was born.
He’s an easy birthday kiddo. He requested pancakes, a watch, and Smashburger. Done, done, and done.
Lego are still his toy of choice, but now we just toss him the box and instructions. Before, I used to choose which set we’d get him based on number of pieces, because anything over a 100 or so used to make me hyperventilate. Now, if we each had the same set in front of us, he’d probably beat me to the finished product.
But that wouldn’t be good for our relationship because we both have a competitive streak a mile long, and sad to say, it’s not our best quality. Ha. I’m trying to tame the person inside that lets her 7 year old’s taunts during a game make her want to take him down.
I love this boy. He’s a lover of books and swimming and chess and make believe. And he’s just not that little anymore. Yesterday morning I realized that with the oldest two we are sort of past the “says funny things all the time” stage. I like to think that’s one reason we have one still in that stage and one waiting in the wings because really, who doesn’t love the insane stuff 2-5 year olds say? But then Asher gave me what I like to think of as a parting gift from that stage. Omar and I were talking about Asa and food. Omar casually asked me to help him remember when babies start eating finger foods. Asher quickly piped up with, “Finger foods? You mean like cream puffs?”
Yes, buddy. Like cream puffs. I love you.