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Lucky Number 7

By Richie Ann Ashcraft

Last week, Soren turned 7-years-old.

He cried real tears the night before because he wanted to stay 6. Lately, he's been very sad that he's not young anymore. He's always asking about what he was like as a baby. He's disappointed because it's pretty rare for him to wake up in the night and crawl in our bed. And, as he put it, "I'm forgetting to cuddle you before I get too big."

These conversations, of course, make me sad, too. I've been making extra time to skip laundry and let that big, old kid weigh me down on the couch. Usually, he ends up elbowing me in the boob or accidently head-butting me in the face because 7-year-old boys CANNOT sit still for even one second. Regardless, we try.

On his birthday, I picked him up for a special lunch, but he made me promise it wouldn't take so long he'd miss recess.

We talked about girls — ew — and how they like him — ew.

Being a really cool nerd, Soren chose The Math and Science Center for his birthday party on Saturday.

We had a blast and by "we," I mean all of the kids from the first grade, even the girls, some of their parents and siblings of all ages.

The center prices parties at $5 a head and provides the large classroom room in the back for the formal festivities. We ordered pizza, had cake, presents and the rest of the time the kids and grownups just ran around learning stuff about gravity, and light, and lizards. Pretty awesome.

About half of his friends had never been to the Math and Science Center before so I thought of it as an added bonus to introduce them to something really cool we have in GJ.

And, not a single one of them thought anything of Soren's handmade cake-wreck. He decorated it himself.

Right after the party, Soren went to his first sleepover. I was nervous. I slept with my phone in my hand all night even though I knew he was in a safe place.

It just goes to show that no matter how sad he may be about turning 7, his mama is even sadder.


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I love that he decorated the cake himself.

Oh the sweetness of the little boy mind.

The philosopher enters the Age of Reason.

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