To Brady, on Your Seventh Birthday

Dear Brady,

Here you are, 7 years old. You have all of the sudden matured into such a little man, like a switch flipped. You'll get up and make your own breakfast, and sometimes even your sisters' breakfast. It's pretty awesome for this mama, who loves to sleep. You'll do your homework unasked sometimes (whereas other times you'll scream and yell your way through it. Not awesome.). You're learning to really read, and it's amazing to see you expand your world and imagination in that way. But those aren't my favorite things about you. My favorite things about you are these:

-- Your sweet, sweet soul. Just last night you told Daddy and me you want to do chores to earn money to donate to people who don't have homes. This came out of the blue. I assume that you got this idea when we saw a homeless community under one of the bridges on the way to the zoo. And I love that you love your friends and aren't afraid to show them affection. I don't know how much longer they'll let you hug all over them when you see them, but it's pretty great. I was so worried school and mean kids would take away this part of you, but so far, so good.

And we can't forget how wonderful you are with your sisters. When they're upset, you step in to make it better. You put your arms around them, talk gently to them, and do what you can (even when there's nothing you can do because they are NUTS).

-- Your optimism. Maybe Georgia will intercept a ball (with 2 seconds left in the game) and run it back for a TD. Maybe Daddy will win the whole race. Maybe...maybe...maybe. You look for the best in every situation. Unless we tell you "no." Then God help us all.

-- Your smile, which is currently short a front tooth. I didn't think you could get any more adorable, then you started losing teeth.

-- Your terrible, terrible jokes. You occasionally try to tell me a made-up joke. They don't even make any sense! But you always laugh after you tell them, which makes me laugh, so keep on telling those jokes, in the grand tradition of Jewish comedians in America (and Yakov Smirnoff in Russia. And now Branson, Missouri).

-- How much you love our kitty cats. They're keen on you too, although you don't see it yet because they're NOT keen on you picking them up.

-- Your left-brained quirks. You need to be organized, and you can't get enough of math. I am fairly happy about this, as my math skills are about to be surpassed by yours.


I'm also pretty thrilled that your palette is expanding. FINALLY, finally, you willingly try new foods. All of the sudden, you love squash. I am so excited about this development.

It's fascinating to watch you discover the world. There's so much to know, and you are very curious about a wide range of (sometimes) interesting topics. We have not always had as much energy or time as we needed to help you explore these things, but as you get better at reading, you can explore them yourself. I can't wait to be there when you do, to talk and discuss and debate.

I have loved this past year as your mother, and I know I'm going to love 7 even more. You are a joy, a gift, the first best thing that ever happened to us. We are fortunate to be able to raise such a special soul. And frankly, I'm relieved to know that the parenting mistakes we've (okay, I've) made the past 7 years haven't seemed to affect you at all. You are you, and you are a wonderful you. Thank you for that.

We love you always, no matter what, thhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiisssssssssss much,
Mom