Seven!

Happy 7th Birthday, Zachary!

I've always liked the number seven. I like that it's a number that can't be divided by anything.

Yeah.

Today my baby boy turned seven. And, like always, he faced this day with the same energy and determination as he does all 364 other ones each year. I love that about him.

I broke away from Grady and met him in the school cafeteria today for a hot date over some hot lunch. And really, all I mostly did was sit and listen to the conversation of first grade boys which, if you haven't heard it, consists of like three or four subjects. In between discussions of Minecraft, Pokemon and football, Zachary would periodically lean over and wrap his arms around me and hug me super hard. Then he'd pucker his lips and let me plant one on him right there in front of his friends.Without even flinching.

Swoon.

Now that? That is so Zachary. The furthest thing from his mind was what those other boys would say about him canoodling with his mother over pineapple cubes and sweet potatoes. He's the same kid who as a kindergartner -- in response to being chided about his lavender shirt being a "girl shirt" -- cocked his head sideways, narrowed his eyes and said this:

"What? I'm a boy. And this is my shirt. So how can it be a girl shirt? That's a dumb thing to say."

And that? That was the end of that. Surely was.

Some other kid said that Pokemon cards are for little kids not big kids like people in first grade. That was today while we had lunch. And Zachary shrugged and said, "I still like Pokemon cards. I like the show, too. And I'm in first grade so that's kind of dumb to say." And the kid said, "But it's a baby show." And Zachary said, "Not to me. I like Pokemon. And I just play with what I like to play with." Then he changed the subject.

So, yeah, that was the end of that, too.

I've not met too many people as confident as he. And not in that conceited way either. He's just one of those kids that knew who he was from the start and never needed anyone to remind him. Or maybe we remind him without knowing? I don't know.

Either way, his swagger is on a thousand-trillion.

But. Despite that uber-confidence, he is always happy to look up to his big brother. He wants to be with him and hear his thoughts. And he works hard at being his friend. And he is his friend. His very best one, actually.

I love that about him, too.

He's a tough guy--no question. Zachary can mean mug with the best of them. But so far he's never too tough to seek a post-game snuggle from his mother.

No matter who is looking.

You know? He's just a leader and not a follower. And I watch him and learn from him every single day. I really do. I am in constant awe of his self image.

Yeah.

Happy birthday, my strong baby boy. On this, your seventh birthday, I resolve to do all in my power to keep you whole and, just like the number seven, divisible by nothing but the number one.

Yeah.

***
Happy Wednesday.

Every year on Zachary's birthday I revisit this post--the birth story of Zachary's arrival in 2006. Enjoy it if you haven't before. And hey--revisit it if you don't feel like folding laundry yet. :)