Its 10:15 pm, and I just heard a thud coming from upstairs and went up to investigate. I figured one of my children fell out of the bed. Jackson was soundly sleeping in his bed, Avery was soundly sleeping in her bed, and you were soundly sleeping in our bed. With the lights on and new Roald Dahl book lying next to you. Eight years old, and you're between baby and adult. Read chapter books, but wanna sleep in mom's bed. Loves rap music, also can't stop sucking his thumb.
You have been a joy to watch grow these past eight years. You've always been my easy-going kid, easily adaptable to any situation and ready to take on the next adventure. Like your dad, always looking ahead at what we're doing next, who's coming over, what fun lies ahead. You love your friends and they love you. Like many eight-year-olds, you have your own language with your buddies, and your energy about, well really everything, attracts others to you. You met a friend on your baseball team this year and its wasn't too long before you handed me his name and number on a piece of paper. And you made sure that playdate happened. When you're older, if you tackle dating with the same tenacity, I'm sure you'll have girls lining up.
I'm tired, its late, and I've done 4 other things since starting this letter. That seems to be life these days. When you were born, you got alllll the attention. You were my world, and then you had a brother, and then a sister. And then your mom got a "job." I've never felt to guilty though, as you're a pretty content kid. You're a sport loving nut, of course, but you have wide interests and I love seeing your interests develop. You asked for two things for your birthday: catcher's gear "so I can throw the ball as hard as I can at Jackson" and blank books. Thanks to Amazon Prime, I made that dream come true with a pack of 10 books for about $10. You were thrilled this morning, and after dolling one out to your sister and one out to your brother, you were making plans in your head for the other eight. You told us you were going to write during snack time, and sure enough, being the author/illustrator you are, you came home with what appears to be Book 1 in a series.
I'm tired, its late, and I've done 4 other things since starting this letter. That seems to be life these days. When you were born, you got alllll the attention. You were my world, and then you had a brother, and then a sister. And then your mom got a "job." I've never felt to guilty though, as you're a pretty content kid. You're a sport loving nut, of course, but you have wide interests and I love seeing your interests develop. You asked for two things for your birthday: catcher's gear "so I can throw the ball as hard as I can at Jackson" and blank books. Thanks to Amazon Prime, I made that dream come true with a pack of 10 books for about $10. You were thrilled this morning, and after dolling one out to your sister and one out to your brother, you were making plans in your head for the other eight. You told us you were going to write during snack time, and sure enough, being the author/illustrator you are, you came home with what appears to be Book 1 in a series.
You love to draw, read, and do math. You qualified for AIG just today, and I loved seeing the pride you had for yourself. Since you were a toddler, you exuded a confidence in yourself and you've managed to strike a balance that doesn't venture into cockiness. Because you've always felt secure in your own abilities, you don't have the impulse to bring others down. You're a good hype man for your teammates and friends, and you're sweet to your brother, letting him know all the ways that he did good. And occasionally, you'll indulge your sister, too, like yesterday when she was giving a makeup tutorial to the family.
Brady, by being the first born, you've helped shape this family. I couldn't conjure up a better family, or better son. I love you very much.
Love,
Amy
PS. Not sure what the thud was.
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