7-3/4 years old & holding

Grady's been going through many changes lately.  For one, he's changed his name to Ash.  Yep, Ash.  Only wants to answer to Ash.  He is also so over his hot pink sock fetish and it makes me a little sad.  He claims he only has girl socks and, therefore, nothing to wear on his feet.  Oh, that one hurt.  I was hoping to ride the creative sock-wearing style he has been sporting since birth for a few more years, but I think the jig is up.

His uniform of late has been soccer shorts and a short sleeve t-shirt.  Not a long sleeve shirt.  Not jeans or sweatpants.  No way.  We've had a lot of chilly morning with frost throughout the valley, but that has made not a bit of difference to my little guy.  Shorts or a full on morning meltdown.  His father says "let him freeze and then he'll figure it out on his own".  Oh, husband, you know this is not my way and it's hard to send the boy who sprang from me out into the world without a coat and pants on!  I'm a mom.  I'm supposed to say crap like "you'll catch a cold" and "you'll shoot your eye out".  It's in my mama DNA.

Last night he wrote out his Valentine cards and needed absolutely no help from me (or wanted for that matter).  He knew what he wanted to say to each and every person in his class, including the teacher.  He did the artwork, he wrote the notes, decorated the envelopes with his new code name and adorned them with stickers to fit each kid's personality (i.e., if they lived on a farm, they got farm animal stickers; if they liked dogs, they got dog stickers, etc.).  He also told me he's in love.  Real love.  Top secret love.  I wasn't ready for that.

He still let's me comb his hair, but then shakes it out so it looks like Justin Bieber.  What?  Why?  Who?  Yes, I feel out of it and I guess it's all normal for this I'm-almost-eight-mom-and-you-are-not-privy-to-my-every-thought stage he's going through.  Oh, but it makes my heart ache just a little bit when I notice the growing up he's doing.

Sunday we watched Old Yeller.  The first time for both of us.  Steve was off watching the Superbowl at the Valley Ford Hotel and I guess I thought it would be a good idea to inflict some mild childhood trauma on my son before he went to bed.  I know, I know - I should have known better.  The truth is, I've never seen it!  He didn't cry at Marley & Me or Where the Red Fern Grows, so I just thought he had a real healthy sense of the circle of life and such.  Perhaps throwing in rabies and a foaming-at-the-mouth dog was a bit much...for all of us.  We talked through the end of the movie, everything was hunky-dory and then he went to bed to read.  The sobs wafted through the house and I went to see what was happening back in his room.  I walked in on a father and son hug that was so heartfelt and dear.  Grady was sobbing and Steve was comforting him and talking it out.  I just watched and listened from the door and tried to savor the moment they were having.  I loved my husband just a little bit more for the kindness he showed our son that night and appreciated the sensitivity of my animal-loving, dog-obsessed kid.  I am so lucky.

So I guess we're all growing and changing in our household.  My little guy is testing the waters with the words he's using, the books he's reading and the clothes he's wearing. It's bittersweet to watch this unfold, but I want to support him as he finds himself and tests it all out in the safest place on earth - our home.