I recently threatened this child. I told him that if he couldn't get ready for school in a timely manner than he would be forced to hold my hand a few blocks from school and until we reached his classroom.
It has come to this, the no longer needing to hold my hand but me wanting him to at every cost. He needs me just a little less, year by year, moment by moment. And we keep teaching one another, whether it brings tears from laughter or sometimes from anger. Often, I can't help but think it is more of him teaching me, something maybe a first born is just meant to do.
Happy 9th birthday my sweet boy, my teacher, my boy who could stand to take a shower just a little more often. I am pretty crazy about you and a little crazier because of you.