Avi’s birthday was Monday, July 25. He turned 6 years old, which I was fine about until a friend pointed out that my little boy now needs two hands (unless the other party is fluent in ASL) to indicate his age. Whoa. Suddenly that seems so old!
In the past year, Avi has learned how to read, count past 100, make his own soy butter and jelly sandwiches, pour his own milk, take showers alone and mostly ride his bike. His ice skating his improved exponentially, and he’s playing on his first mite hockey team. He’s also taking ballet and gymnastics, and if he could add one more activity it would absolutely be drum lessons. Or piano. No, soccer. Tap dancing? Definitely tennis. Or swimming. Oh my gosh, this kid loves everything!
He’s a champion sleeper like his dad and easily distracted like his mom. Good combination.
He is also at least fifty feet tall.
He’s a total ham, with an insatiable appetite for pop music, correct lyrics be damned.
And if you don’t believe me, you can ask youtube.
We recently finished the first Harry Potter book and watched the movie. He is fascinated with magic and spells and especially quidditch.
But he isn’t quite ready to start the second book yet. He is still painfully sensitive sometimes, and worried to the point of tears that Harry, Hermione and Ron might “get in trouble” when they were out of their beds at night.
Sometimes I look at him and can’t find that sleeping baby I remember so well.
So I look and look and look some more.
Oh! There he is. My baby. My Avi.