This week, we celebrated the boys turning 8 and 5. When I say this week, I mean we celebrated for a straight week. This year, their birthdays landed on Tuesday and Thursday, making it less convenient to choose an in-between date to throw a joint party, and with both having their own friends in school, they had their own individual birthday bashes for the first time, two consecutive Saturdays.
Throw in their actual birthdays, which we celebrated with their choice of restaurant and dessert (they kept it classy choosing Raising Canes and McDonalds) then a family dinner on the Wednesday in-between, and I think we have sufficiently acknowledged this transformative change in age.
So why don’t I feel like it’s sunk in? My baby will be starting kindergarten in the fall. Today he filled his own drinks, dressed, fixed his own snacks and repeatedly told me “I’m five now so I can do it myself,” or my favorite, “I’m so much smarter because now I’m five.”
I keep waiting for that moment. The moment I realize they really are big kids and will only become even more independent. They’ll become “so much smarter” and there’s no going back. I keep waiting for it to hit me and drudge up feelings of nostalgia for the bottles and pacifiers and wobbly feet.
Maybe it’s because I’m growing with them. Maybe it’s because each new “version” of them just keeps getting cooler. Maybe it’s because they still end up in our bed in the middle of the night.
Whatever the reason, I know I love watching them get so much smarter.
At 8 years old, big bro likes baseball, writing, reading, Pokémon, legos and playing outside.
At 5, little bro likes drawing, telling jokes, music, Pokémon, legos and playing outside.
They both dislike bedtime.
Our Life in A-Z 