Ten

April 4, 1998:

April 4, 2008:
Dean, at this moment -- 6:17 a.m. -- is officially ten years old. I do not know how a decade slipped by us. It's hard to remember life without Dean, and yet it seems he got to this point in such a hop, skip, and a jump that it can't possibly have been ten years already. It is the constant song of parenthood: where did the time go?

Dean at ten is a kind, thoughtful, caring, funny, sometimes intense, always empathetic person. He sees humor everywhere, laughs easily, and clears his place when he's done eating. He loves Legos, he has no interest in candy generally but loves dark chocolate, he's an avid reader and he writes great stories. He says "please," "thank you," and "I'm sorry" without being reminded (almost always), and calls out "are you all right!?!" if he hears someone stumble or drop something or sneeze. He likes to get his own way but has learned to let go of needing to get his own way. He is knowledgeable about so many things -- animals, insects, geography, plants, Pokemon, birds, and football to name a few. He loves to be at home, and he's a great explorer. I cannot imagine life without him, and at the same time force myself to realize that if 10 came this quickly then tomorrow he'll be 20. We'll enjoy each step of that journey as we have of the journey so far, and appreciate him for who he is today.

Happy Birthday, Dean, to the best boy I could have ever wished for.