01 abril 2016

He must be 7!

Last week, after that freak-snow, Girumy asked if he could go out alone to shovel the back walk... you know, "since you don't like the cold, MamA."  "Uh... sure?"  I gave him the keys and off he went... and did a fabulous job.  Last weekend, the kid almost made pancakes.  Yesterday morning he made oatmeal and for lunch he made us all SPICY quesadillas.  His upper front tooth is noticeably crooked, as the new one pushes it out.  Girum is 7.

My baby!  My large man-child!

Girumy continues to be such an oldest child, for better and for worse.  He is SO responsible, usually at the expense of fun.  I get it, but it makes me sad too.  I don't want him to be such a Wendy, although I fear that it's already too late.  He has left Neverland... if he was even there in the first place.

He is a master-negotiator, which leads me to believe that he'd be a great diplomat (said, ironically, with a Russian accent).  He still says that he doesn't know what he wants to do when he is an adult, but he does know that he wants to get around in a "muscle car" and he wants to be fueled by meat.  My child?!  Ay!!!!!!

Girumy is an autodidact, which has its pros and its cons.  He continues to teach his siblings everything.  He generally likes to be in their company, not liking to risk adventures alone.

My baby is such a joy!  We continue to be SO THANKFUL to God for letting him be our family.  God, may your will be done with him!

always making planes
Super-G!
the serious student
soccer brothers
OK, so he's not always serious!
It's tiring being 7!
Girumy, we love you Michelin-starry, with 9 billion infinities!

So, the celebrations:
We began the birthday celebrations with Rob's.
And then Liz's
On to G's:  While Rob was preparing the pancakes, G and I snuggled in bed and then at the counter.  For how many more years will he want to do that?  -a big sigh-


Oh, yeah, we started off G's b-day with chocolate milk at 5:41 AM.
traditional Happy Birthday pancakes
Gifts
And more gifts
G's dinner request: eggrolls, ginger rice, Uzbek fire carrots and pickled radishes
When G opened an envelope with money in it, Ty exclaimed, "I can't believe it!  Look at all of that money!"
the requested, and best (if I do say so myself), carrot cake a la Mrs. Skogs
capped off the next day by dinner at Kopps and a guitar from our generous Linda
We ended the celebrations with more snuggling, during which time, he sleepily told me that he loves that I'm his mom.  "Do you know why?"  "Why," I asked.  And this is what the kid said, "Because you don't let us celebrate Halloween, you find us organic food and your cheeks smell like koshari."

Yep.  That about says it all!  My precious baby!