Being

Now We Are Six

AA Milne

When I was one

I had just begun

When I was two

I was nearly new

When I was three 

I was hardly me

When I was four 

I was not much more

When I was five

I was just alive

But now I am six,

I'm as clever as clever;

So I think I'll be six now

Forever and ever

Dear EvilBoy,

AA Milne couldn't have said it any better, you are very clever.  You always have been, but just this past year some of the things you do completely blows me away.  You still haven't mastered how to tie your own shoelaces or how to say "Bah Humbug" properly just yet, but those things will come in time.  Besides, there is always velcro shoes and speech therapy to help us through these little obstacles.  You can set up the television to your favourite shows like it's nobody's business and you can even buckle yourself into your booster seat.  Those two things alone pretty much make you a genius to me, mostly because now you can entertain yourself with mindless kid shows at 6am on Saturday mornings without having to wake me from my slumber and I no longer have to wait to get into the car in minus fifty billion degree weather to buckle you into your seat.   I appreciate those things you do, more than you can ever imagine.  When you start to cook your own meals I will pretty much think you are right up there with Einstein.  You already can ride a bike with no training wheels so that pretty much puts you ahead of your Uncle Sam in the smarts department (just kidding Sam, looooove you!).

Your recent love of old school Little People play sets fills me with glee. I love the way you park your Cars characters in the Little People movie theatre.  I love how they each have their own little voices and how they usually all end up saying  "C'mon man, c'mon man let's go!".  I think it's charming.  When I was your age I had a dollhouse and I pretty much did the same sort of thing with my Sylvanian Family dolls where for some strange reason Papa Evergreen had ran off with Mrs. Cottontail and they were raising young Thistlethorn as their own.  What can I say, it was a messed up dollhouse that sort of reflected my messed up childhood.  I'm not sure what you're trying to say by making our family cars, but it's okay, I will accept that.One year I even went across the street (by myself *gasp*) and cut a small end off an evergreen tree across the street.  I did it so stealthily, like some sort of  dollhouse accessory thief, and I put that little twig of evergreen in my dollhouse and made it their Christmas Tree. I will be waiting for you to do the same because that was pretty damn clever of me if I do say so myself.

I love that you pretend play so amazingly well which just proves you have a healthy imagination, which also comes into play when you wake me up in the middle of the night after having a bad dream about alligators chasing you on motorcycles and eating your old daycare teacher right in front of you.  That is your imagination dear, never lose those wacky dreams, as bad as they might be sometimes, they give you something really awesome to talk about with your friends at school, or you could even write them down into some sort of successful dream blog or tweet about it on Twitter and people will accuse you of doing crack before going to bed and you can just chuckle about it because you know it is just your healthy imagination at work. 

This year you really started to get into video games.  I'm not too sure how I feel about this just yet, but I bought the game for you so I guess the only one to blame for your rotting brain is myself.  Even though I sometimes look at you and pray you don't become a "gamer", I just think that I have to love you no matter who you turn out to be.  Unless you turn out to be a serial killer, that would be a little hard to love.  I just hope you don't end up living in my basement until you are 45.

Who am I kidding.  I would love it if you lived in my basement until you are 45.  We could put up tents in the living room on the weekend and have tea parties and go to the grocery store together with our little fold-up wheely cart and we could wear sweat pants every single day.  We would be so totally awesome.  Like a team of sweat-panted aging people who were really good at pitching tents in the house.  I would love that because I've secretly been dreading every single birthday you have because I know it is a year closer to the time when you will leave me and I will be alone.  I will have tea parties all by myself and I will probably end up living in that tent I became so good at putting up.  Sweat pants and wheely carts just aren't as cool when you are alone.  It's kind of depressing actually.  So here are your options:  1) Stop growing up now or 2) Live in my basement and pitch tents in the living room with me until you are 45 and I will probably be dead already - or something like that.

You started school this year and you love it.  You love "big school" so much and you love "Hamilton-Hicks" more than anything.  In fact, I think you have a crush on your teacher.  When we had to pick out a Christmas gift for her a few weeks ago you stated that you wanted to get her jellybeans because she needed to work on her estimating skills.  In fact, estimating has become your new favourite thing.  Which is really cute because you don't really understand what estimating is.  You count things and call it estimating.  Which is pretty smart because it makes you look like a genius.  We should go into street vendorism or something and we could set up an estimating booth and trick people out of money.  I would never have to work again. We would just travel from city to city and rip people off for their spare change through estimation.  Think about it.  It would be pretty awesome.

This year you have also pursued your talent in the music business.  You were in not one, but two holiday concerts where you sang louder than any other kid up there...and you wore a tie. Nobody else wore a tie... which made it so much cuter when you did, even if you fought with me for ten minutes causing me to lose my shit and not want to go to the concert at all, which in turn made you feel guilty and you put on the tie to make me happy again.  I think I should start saving for therapy sessions now.

Our family took up the whole entire first row of your "big school" concert.  The whole row.  That is how much you are loved.  Everyone was there, even family that drove for hours to watch you sing up there on that stage, and they certainly were not disappointed by your performance.  You are like a miniature Frank Sinatra up there.  I hope you never lose your entertaining ability.  I lost mine pretty early and soon enough going up on stage became a stressful thing for me, eventually playing sports in front of people, speaking in front of the class and making friends all became stressful.  Having no fear is such a great thing and I'm happy you have that. It makes me so proud.

Another thing I have noticed about you lately is your concern for others.  Your heart is just so amazing.  You think of others, most often before you think of your own needs.  I've witnessed you going without mittens just so your friend could have a pair because his got wet at first recess. At first I was a little annoyed that you had no mittens, but when I heard what you did for your friend my heart melted into a big mushy blob.  I'm sure your friend had important snow business to do which is why you sacrificed your warm hands.

Then you lost your hamster friend earlier this month, and I saw you cry the biggest tears I have ever seen. You were strong as you said goodbye and promised that your dad would take care of him in heaven.  I saw you cry but it definitely was not a sissy cry, it was a big boy cry.  Your lips were tight, your eyes were wet and a single big tear ran down your cheek every few minutes, and that was it.  I could see you were upset, but I could tell you didn't want to cry.  Then you taught me that life goes on and even though you are hurting the best thing to do is to go out and have fun.

I look forward to your sixth year of life.  I look forward to pillow fights and riding bikes and teaching you how to tie your shoes and how to improve your reading skills.  I look forward to the moment when I realize I can't spell curse words in front of you anymore because you already know how to spell and the moment when you tell me you want to call your friends on the phone and discuss Bakugans, because that is what six year olds do.

-Mom.

  This picture was a mistake.  But it still ended up being pretty cool. 

(yes I stole this from your Facebook)