Today my little boy turned seven. Seven. I can hardly believe it! How did we get from this....

To this?

I remember the first few months, when I was up every two hours, bleary eyed and frantic that this child would NEVER sleep without my holding him, terrified that I'd drop him, worried that the world would harm him.
I'm still a chronic worrier, but I keep that inside, away from him. I figure if Rick and I love him and play with him and teach him and (yes) discipline him when necessary, he'll have the tools to deal with the world.
One of the things I've been having trouble with is the number "seven". Up to age six, I've been able to think of Zack as a little boy, my baby. But seven evokes a totally different thing -- a kid who's starting to break away, do his own thing, moving away from the herd.
Then I realized, Zack and I have a bond that is pretty darned strong, and I think he's always going to have a bit of silly little kid in him. Case in point -- Friday, we went to Barnes and Noble and wandered into the children's section. We both adore
Mo Willems' "Pigeon" series and we always like to check and see if a new one has come out. What do we see? The actual Pigeon!!!

Both of us shrieked in delight, I snatched it from the top shelf, and Zack clutched it to his chest.
"Can we get it?" he asked.
"Oh you KNOW we're getting it," I said.
On the way home, we came up with silly things for the Pigeon not to do (and if you've read any of the books, like "Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus" and "Don't Let the Pigeon Stay Up Late", you'll understand where we were coming from. These included things from "Don't let the pigeon drink coffee" to "Don't let the pigeon do the taxes."
I realized, neither Zack, nor I, will ever truly grow up.
Lori Anderson makes beaded jewelry for www.lorianderson.net. She also writes another blog, An Artist's Year Off.