And Now You Are Eight

Dear Finn,
Today at 10:58am EST, you turned eight years old. It's hard to believe! I bet I'll still be writing that when you're 16...

When Declan turned eight, he seemed so grown up. To me, you are still so young--probably the difference between the first born and the "baby." Although you'd slug me if you heard me call you that.

Unlike your brother, who burst into the world upside down and two weeks early, you were perfectly content to hang out until week 40 when the doctor finally had to bring you out forcibly! It was a sign that you were going to be an amiable kid and a great sleeper. I rarely got to rock you to sleep--you conked out so quickly, no rocking was necessary. When you could walk, when you were tired and ready to sleep, you went right to your crib and stood there until we put you in.


Your Birth Day: Your big brother was so curious about you!

Your hair wasn't curly right away. It was very lightly red and the curls started showing up when you were about 8 months old.


You could spit up like nobody's business.

As you got older, you got curlier. People came up to me in the grocery store and touched your hair. When you were old enough to realize what was happening, you were a little freaked out.

As I looked back through my files for pictures for this post, there were so many that just made me smile or even laugh out loud. You were so YOU from the very beginning. As I look at pictures of you over the years, I still see so much of the same you.

Some of my favorites:




You smiled ALL the time. We called it the Finn Grin. This was your first haircut.







Some of them crack me up just because YOU'RE cracking up. Like you're years older and laughing at some inside joke that only you know about.






And then other times, you're just adorable. Can I still call you adorable?


This picture is so totally you. Still.


I love your gusto.



It seems like you've barely changed. But of course you have. As of this birthday, you have lived more than half of your life in Colorado. It's hard for me to imagine that you don't really remember Ohio and your first three years and 10 months there.

And today you are eight. Eight is great.






You are funny, smart, impatient, energetic, curious, sometimes a stinker, sometimes a little teaser and instigator, imaginative, loving (but I dare not try and give you a smooch!), and you can make me go from ready to strangle you to wanting to hug you in a single bound.

You are The Mighty Finn--a superhero in your right.



You are eight. And it is so lovely.