Wyatt turned nine on Monday. It's amazing to me the young man he's becoming. Memaw flew out on Thursday night. We celebrated with a small party on Saturday with some of his friends from school, and ordering his favorite dinner (Chinese) on Monday. The highlights of his day were getting a call from his favorite older cousin, the real-life-army-guy Mike, and skyping with his favorite cousin, Skylar.
Wyatt is now the same age that Jordan was when we brought them home. I can't quite express why that is so significant to me, but it is. I've also come to terms with the fact that I will never have an 8 year old again. He is exactly half the age of my eldest son this year. He is my baby, becoming a good young man.
He's come to love school again, thanks to a wonderful teacher. He's blowing through his multiplication facts, and division is starting to really click with him. He loves playing outside, hanging out with daddy, camping, the Broncos, watching Saturday morning cartoons, drawing, playing basketball, fighting with his Nerf swords, building Lego's, fighting with his sister, eating spicy wings, and making us laugh. Hard.
He's stubborn, snarky, loving, happy, and empathetic. He's handsome, quirky, smart, and funny.
I'm a blessed mama, getting the opportunity to parent this wonderful child. I am thankful for his little presence in my life.
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