Ian,
I couldn't let this day go by without acknowledging how special you are to me. Today, you turned 11. Wow. It's hard to believe you've been in my life that long! I still vividly remember when you were in the womb. At the time I was teaching, and the kids would laugh because they could see my stomach roll as you moved around in there. I remember first meeting you. How happy I was that you were finally here and we could begin our life as a family.
Over this last year, you've grown so much. It's sometimes hard to see the little boy that you once were. And, in a way, I'm sad you're not that little boy anymore. Each year that goes by is one year closer to when you'll leave home, start out on your life's journey on your own . . . and I don't want to let you go.
Thankfully, you're still cool with me hugging on you. I know that will probably become "uncool" one of these days here, but for now, I get in hugs when I can. I was shocked when you let me hug on you this morning at church at the end of VBS . . . wow, hugging in public!
Your elementary school years are behind you. You learned so much and matured. We end up laughing about how you started kindergarten as this sensitive kid who had to be consoled and all that we did to figure out how to get your emotions in check. The last several years have been so much better . . . then we ended up back at that point again sometime over this last school year. Along with most of the other boy's parents. I had no clue that the hormone change brought that out in boys. But you seem to take it more in stride, work through things faster.
You continue to amaze us. You do so many things that are unexpected. You recently took the exam to skip 6th grade math. When getting you ready for it, we discovered the only thing you didn't already know from the 6th grade math TEKS was how to find circumference! I told you the equation once, and it was solid in your mind. You were insulted that I'd quiz you on it again later . . .as if you might've possibly forgotten it.
I know it's sometimes hard for you as the oldest kid and the only boy. We probably expect more from you than we should, and sometimes you've gotta feel like the odd man out. But, for the most part, you still take it all in stride. I hope that in time, you will be able to see that there is a lot to be said for having sisters! I hope that you'll be able to look past what you think is annoying (I know you hate it when Alaina uses your full name), and see that having a good, solid relationship with your sisters will add so much to your life. You still treat them tenderly a lot of the time, and for that, I'm grateful. I won't soon forget how you tried to comfort Allison when we announced our surprise Disney trip (Oh, how bad that plan went astray!). She announced her worries, and you instantly said "Don't worry, they're just joking." (tehehe . . . only we really weren't!)
Over the last year, we've seen big changes in our family. And with each change, you have shown what great character you have. Uncle Chris and Aunt Brooke decided to start fostering kids, and you announced that you couldn't wait to meet all these new children that would come into our lives. We learned of Aunt Elaine's cancer diagnosis, and you began to pray for her and expressed concern for how she was doing. It makes my heart glad that you can see past yourself into what matters to those around you.
Now, as you're on the cusp of starting middle school, the Mom worry seems to be going into overdrive. I worry that you'll have a hard time finding your way, not around the building. . . I know that won't be a problem. But finding your way through that weird social scene that is middle school. I worry that the fact that you are so much younger than other kids will be detrimental to you. That you will become lost. I worry that I haven't equipped you well enough as to how to make new friends, how to deal with people you don't agree with (in regards to their behavior). When I was up at the school the past spring eating lunch with you, several of the boys at the table expresses the worries they had about middle school. I was able to calm some fears (no, you won't have a locker next to an 8th grader!). What you won't realize for so many years, as I know I didn't until the last few years, your mom probably has as many worries and fears about middle school as you do! Hopefully, we'll figure out a way to maneuver through these next few years as a team. With the end goal being a happy kid and good memories of your middle school years.
I will be praying for you. For you to make it through these difficult years with dignity . . . and happiness . . . and courage. All the while still having that kind spirit that we have come to recognize as being such of integral part of who you are.
Ian, my son, thank you for being such a wonderful part of our lives. For teaching us so much and giving us so much joy.
I Love you Ian.
Many hugs and much love,
Mom
