So this is eight: an update on our awesome 8-year-old boy

My baby is eight. EIGHT!! For some reason this year is hitting me as far more monumental than others, as I shall explain.

I think that having a child who is behaviorally, emotionally, and socially delayed has made it hard to see the progress and really SEEING him growing up. I joke and say that, until he turned eight, we could just round down to five. Now, when we round, we are rounding up to ten which means puberty is right around the corner and…

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Eight has brought us all kind of interesting tiny things that when you put them all together have really served to show me that my kid is EIGHT, y’all. EIGHT. He’s no longer a little boy. He’s a full-on annoying, joke-telling, loose-teethed BOY.

Eight means that he spent all summer reading chapter books like Magic Tree House and A-Z Mysteries.

Eight means that he spends a lot of unsupervised time outside. He still refuses to try to ride his bike without training wheels, but he can climb trees like a boss, collect bugs, and do all the things I always expected our sons would do. Minus burning up insects with a magnifying glass. 

Eight means he’s now capable of CAMPING OUT OVERNIGHT with Daddy – even though it means sleeping in a strange place (new sensory environment). Eight means joining Trail Life and staying out late a few times a month to attend meetings. He may have a meltdown when it’s over, but still…

Eight means doing things that were previously too hard or scary for him, like riding a moving animal on a carousel instead of sitting in a sleigh.

Eight means that he was brave enough to try sandwiches for the first time in a few years – and that he realized that if you like bread, cheese, and meat separately, they are also really good together! This wonderful realization has led to easier school lunch packing for mom and a lot less plastic baggies being wasted!

Eight means having interesting conversations about (ahem) human anatomy (among other things) that lead me to text my husband gifs like this:

Eight means that at his 8-year check-up (exactly on his 8th birthday!) he finally hit FIFTY pounds in weight and 4 feet in height. FOUR FEET, y’all.

Eight means nightly homework. Headware optional…

Eight means he is doing SUBTRACTION (with amazing accuracy, I might add)!

Eight means using YouTube to research “why the Statue of Liberty has spokes on her head” because his drama teacher asked the class to do so!

Yes, we are still waiting results for autism testing. Yes, I did have to move the rocking chair into his room so I can help him calm down after school and before bed. Yes, I still have to tell him five thousand times to do pretty much everything. But, while it may FEEL at times like we are forever stuck in the preschool years of meltdowns and tantrums, we truly are seeing him grow up too.

There is so much I could write about the emotional ups and downs that come along with being mom to this growing-up child, but I’m trying to do a better job of honoring his privacy and his story. That said – life with our Ezra is always an adventure!

I can’t say “I feel old” because a lot of you would just laugh at me. But what I feel is the change in my life STAGE more than my actual AGE. That can be overwhelming and surprising sometimes, but is also exciting!