These birthday photo posts are getting very long. Hmm…

There was a wave of “no way he’s eight!” going around Twitter and Facebook this morning, and really, we’re right there with you all.

Eight years ago today, during a humid heatwave, we unexpectedly found ourselves with someone who wasn’t scheduled to arrive till after the Wicca book proofs were handed in um till after the first draft of the green witch book had been handed in er till the nursery was ready well till we were fully unpacked from the move for another nine weeks.

One…

Two…

Three…

Four…

Five…

Six…

Seven…

EIGHT!

Eight years ago he was born nine weeks early, and we’ve been trying to keep up with him ever since. (That thing about preemies sometimes being slower at milestones and having to adjust gestational/chronological age expectations? Totally untrue in our case.)

I love his vocabulary, I love his weird sense of humour, I love how he tells stories that go on and on (and on… and even when I am exasperated because he can’t draw them to a close, I love his imagination). I love how he can look at something two-dimensional and turn it into a three-dimensional structure with Lego or another building medium. He’s really into plasticine and modelling compounds right now.

I don’t know what level he’s reading at any more. He just reads, and reads anything and everything, and in both English and French. HRH had to put the kibosh on Sparky looking at the open Harry Potter book they’re reading together at night, because Sparky is reading silently to himself and is going much faster than HRH reads aloud. I’ve come in for my turn reading to him a couple of times recently and found him reading a few chapters ahead in The Dragon Rider by Cornelia Funke, the chapter book we’re reading together right now, too.

He’s wearing size 7-8 shirts, and size 7 pants for length (but his size 6 shorts are fitting him just fine in the waist, and even some of his old size 5 ones). He’s in size 13 or youth size 1 shoes, depending on the style.

This year has been absolutely wonderful for him at school. It was hard at the beginning, but his teacher has been excellent, and he’s worked hard both in class and at home, and he’s now pretty much bilingual. We are super proud of him, and I have no doubt that his end-of-year report card will blow us away just like his last one did. He’s worked hard at cello, too, and he’s excited about the recital this weekend. This summer he has four weeks of his arts day camp, and he’s lookig forward to that.

He is thoughtful, sensitive, loving, and enjoys sharing what he loves with other people. He and Owlet play together wonderfully, and it has been such a privilege to watch him grow and learn. I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that he’ll be in Grade Three in a couple of months.