7 is not so big...

Moses is 7. He is so big! He backed the golf cart out of Granny's shed this week by himself (he's been doing this for awhile). He does wheelies on his bike. He reads. He writes. He engineers amazing creative ways to accomplish everyday tasks. He has a BB gun. And several pocket knives. He helps me take care of Hannah, changing her and dressing her. He sleeps over at friend's houses and doesn't call me to come get him at bedtime. In fact, I think he would really like to stay for days. He has beaten Super Mario Brothers on the Wii. He does back flips on the trampoline. He cooks eggs himself. He is just so...big.

But then there are the times that he falls, scrapes his knee, and wants me to make it all better. Or when someone says something unkind to him and his little heart is broken. Some nights he has a

bad dream and just wants to crawl in bed between Eric and myself. He likes for me to get his clothes out and toss them up to him on the top bunk in the mornings or to give him a piggy back ride to breakfast. He still whines (sometimes). He likes for me to scratch his back. I love the way he says in his still so sleepy voice, "Good morning, Mama" while he rubs his eyes and holds blanky. I still have the ability to quiet his fears. He still wants me to kiss him good night and tuck him in.

I hope he always wants to kiss me goodnight...no matter how big he is.