Happy Birthday, Mr. Seamus.

Happy Birthday, Seamus. I am startled at how quickly we have arrived at double digits for you. When I was pregnant with you, everyone (and I mean EVERYONE) told me how fast it would all go. When you're waiting for your first child to be born, time almost stops, and so it is hard to appreciate the truth to what people are telling you.  It does go so fast. Faster than I was ever able to imagine.

I went for a run this afternoon. It is a beautiful, sunny day. And I was thinking that 10 years ago at noon, I was in last few hours of a long labor. And I thought through the day and the experience of labor. It is funny for me to admit that when you came in to my life, tiny and precious, you taught me big, important things about myself. Things that I never knew.

The 24 hours it took for you to make your first appearance, taught me that I was more patient, more calm and infinitely stronger than I ever knew. I learned that in the face of uncertainty and fear, during discomfort and exhaustion, that I would become a stronger better person. When Dad and I saw you for the first time, we felt full of faith and of love. In those first precious moments, we saw our love for each other grow exponentially. One of many, many gifts you have given us.

This is an important birthday for so many reasons. Everyone who meets you, thinks that your an old sort of soul, but at the age of 10 you become what people now call a tween. I don't really know what it means, but I can see from the last few months that your view of the world and your role in it are changing.

You're an easy kid to parent. You're smart and thoughtful. You like to be helpful and social. You are a rock of a first child - a kid I can count on to be a good role model to your younger siblings. You're interested in learning about EVERYTHING. I am amazed every day and what you come down wearing, what new thing you're reading about, at the next thing you want to invent. Right now your interested in world history, wars, why and how battles are fought. I can feel the pull from you - that feeling that you're testing out choices and ideas.  I can see that you're thinking about things like what you're wearing and what you're doing in more deliberate sort of way.

 

For your birthday, you put on a camo shirt that grandma bought for your this summer and a pair of camo pants aunt Katie got for you last year.  I suggested both were maybe overkill, but you looked determined and so I let it go.

You're going to help me find my way through this changing adolescence, I won't do everything right, but we do pretty well navigating together.

At the beginning of this summer, you decided to stop eating meat. If I'm honest, this stressed me out a little. You told me it was because you'd read about slaughter houses and you didn't want to eat anything that had been living. I figured that it wouldn't last too long since steak and hamburgers are your favorite meals. But we're almost into October now and you've stuck to your word. Dad grilled steak on Sunday night and I pulled you aside and said that it was OK to eat meat sometimes. Dad and I consider ourselves flexitarians - we don't eat much meat - but I'm not willing to give it up entirely. You told me that maybe some day you'd start eating meat again, but that you didn't want to yet.  I must have looked worried, because then you told me that you didn't want it to be a problem for me - so if I was mad about it - you'd eat it again to make me happy. I didn't really know what to do about that? Then you said:

"Mom, maybe its just a phrase." 

And I laughed.

"I think you mean a phase."

You laughed and shrugged.

But this is the trick of turning 10. You're starting to think about bigger, more adult things and yet you're still so young. I feel like 10 year old Seamus is a magical gift. I'm watching you think about friendships, goals, dreams and ambitions.  I love how your mind works and how you like to connect the dots.

You pay attention to everything important. When grandpa had the Abdominal Aortic Aneurysm a few weeks ago, I know that you listened to ever word I said. It made me think carefully about how I was reacting. If I'm honest, it helped me react in a more positive and constructive way. We were prayerful. We said I love you - words that my siblings and I hadn't said a lot to each other (even though we're very close). I wanted you to hear me tell my siblings how much I loved them. I wanted you to see how family supports each other in crisis. I wanted you to hear me say "Thank You" to my siblings.

 

Uncle Chris is your Godfather because he is also my Godfather and Dad and I picked the oldest child in each of our families as Godparents for you. Over the last few weeks, I saw how much my parents rely on him as their oldest child. It is a different role - they trust him, they look to him to be a good example (even now). The last few weeks have made me so grateful that you and he have a special relationship. He taught you how to drive the tractor - and you spent hours and hours this summer following him around in the woods cutting down trees or working on projects (like the new Adirondack chairs). I am grateful for all the important influences in your life - Aunt Katie took us all to see Les Miserables this summer - and you're still singing Red and Black in the shower.

You started swimming again this fall and you've found a fun new motivation.  I gave you the option to skip practice on your birthday and you said no - it would be awesome to do the "birthday swim". I have no idea what that means - I guess I'll find out tonight.

You're reading all the time, but now you spend more time playing catch with Finn in the yard or making potions with all the kids in your laboratory in the basement.  You even cleared shelves for your siblings so everyone had a spot. You're having a friend up to the cabin for the first time this weekend and I swear you got taller when he called back to say he could come.  I'm looking forward to a great fall weekend at the cabin.

What else can I say about 10 year old Seamus? It's an adventure - this wonderful life we've been given - and we are so grateful to be sharing the journey with you.

We love you.