Happy Birthday Aaron! (The post he deserves: without scorpions, laments, or caffeine.)

Aaron:

"When I grow up, I will buy the house next door, so that you can see your grandchildren every day.  I have houses picked out for my brothers too.  Right next door to mine." 

"Sammy likes cars.  I like weapons."  (mom sigh)

"I don't want anything for Christmas.  Just Andrew to get better."

When Aaron was eighteen months old, I used to tell everyone that after 4 pm I could not let his feet touch the ground.   That seemed to be the bewitching hour.  His eyes would sparkle at me in challenge, and he would take off.  Completely oblivious to any danger, he would jump on our bed in crazy randomness, close to death with each hop (well, at least in my first-time-mommy way of thinking).  He had no interest in doing anything in a seated position.  He would make sure I was watching, and then run towards electric outlets with fingers extended.  He would chase the dogs, and grab their tails. Everyday. The poor, poor dogs.  They were exhausted. And so was I.

So I established a routine.  If the directions were written down, it would have read: 4 pm:  "Go for walk (in stroller).  5 pm: Eat dinner (in high chair).  5:30 pm:  Take a very long bath (in tub.) 6:30 p.m.:   Go to bed (in crib).  Feet must literally never touch ground."  That helped.  Until he learned to crawl out of the crib.

Around the age of two, in a park full of playground equipment, he would stand near babies in strollers and try to make them laugh, ignoring the slides and jungle gyms.  When his brothers were born, he was elated and wanted to hold and feed them.  He was a natural big brother.

From a very early age, Aaron made golf clubs, recorders, pvc pipe, whatever, into swords and rifles.  When he learned about a new animal, he would ask, "How does it defend itself?"  He went on imaginary journeys through bathroom jungles and paddled through swamps in his Huggies cardboard boat.  (I didn't realize how long this video was.  Watch a little and you get the idea...)

Yesterday, he turned seven.  He is still the same little man.  He doesn't chase the dogs anymore (and they are grateful), but he is always looking for an adventure, and partners to join him.  He loves Boyscouts, camping and running races.   He is fascinated by spies, Hardy Boys books, and any kind of mystery.  When disputes arise between friends, he is their natural mediator.  He still loves to make babies smile.

He is compassionate and kind.  Creative and thoughtful.  Sweet and beautiful. Protective and strong.

He makes me proud.

Happy Birthday my sweet, sweet Aaron.