No, it’s not my birthday, too. But it is my Elder Child’s 10th birthday. I guess it’s time to get rid of the baby fat. Hmmm….
But seriously. He’s 10 today. Wow. Even though I feel like I am screwing up at every turn, he’s turning out to be a great kid. He’s got a few issues, but what kid doesn’t? He is sweet (most days), thoughtful, hardworking (most days), and very intelligent. He loves soccer, video games, cats, scouts, and his family. So why do I harp on him so much? Makes me feel like a total shit.
The past two years at school have been really rough on him. We finally had him diagnosed with dysgraphia, and things are starting to turn around. His grades are sooo much better than they were and I should be proud. Instead, I’m frustrated because the reason they aren’t even better is because he does goofball things like not turn in the assignment, or put his name on the paper, or not turn the page over to see if there is a back side. Sigh. This too shall pass I suppose. I just want him to get his act together and not be like me and a lot of the people on my mom’s side of the family.
There are an amazing number of scary-smart people on my mom’s side, and maybe only two of them “did anything” with it. I include myself in that category as well (the “not doing anything with it category” unfortunately). I mean I can count four valedictorians, serveral concert quality musicians, and gallery quality artists among my twenty-some-odd cousins and second cousins. But we’re all missing something. I can’t put my finger on it, so I’ll have to revisit this topic later. It’s always kind of bugged me and I don’t want that to be EC’s fate as well.
So, back to the kiddo. I guess the best present I could give him is the wish that he can put it all together and live up to his potential. That, and a new video game. But he’ll have to settle for room redecoration from us and hope for the best when the Grandparents and Aunt/Uncle come in town this weekend.
So, Happy Birthday Elder Child. I love you. And when I lose it with you, it’s only because I know how awesome you are.
How my dad watched me do the same and didn’t cry every night, I’ll never know. Or maybe he did. Sorry, Dad. I still have time to get it together. And I’m trying real hard, too.