We put our two seven year olds, our five year old, our three year old, and our one year old to bed last night. When we woke up this morning, we were missing one of those sweet seven year olds; a quicker-than-my-camera-skills eight year old came busting out of the room that had been the home of our gone forever seven year old.
He's pretty proud to be numerically older than his sister again. Those few days out of the year get him every time!
He's plotting every moment of his year as an eight year old and all the things he intends to accomplish. I'm here cheering him on, for the most part. My heart nearly pounded straight out of my toes when he announced his intention to learn to ride a motorcycle.
I'll break it to him later the fact that he'll be doing nothing of the sort for at least another couple of years.
Like a couple of twenty years.