Five is Good (and so is Ten)

Five years ago I wrote a blog post entitled Five is Good. The actual subject was my son Ryan who, today, is turning ten. I thought it only fitting that I follow up. Below is an excerpt from Five is Good with my follow up to, duh, follow.

...I'm at the kitchen table with my rotary cutter, my special cutting mat and scads of black fleece and Ryan is hanging with me. He played army guys in the living room for awhile but then he had some homework to do so he came into the dining room with me. We turned on the Christmas music and set to work. He read his book from his book pack for school (today's book was The Hat) and then set to work on his coloring sheet. We spent the morning singing songs and giggling over goofy things. Five is good.

At one point, I had this very long piece of fleece that was a throw-away piece because it was only about a half an inch wide and he asked if he could have it. Of course. Who am I to deny such a fabulous gift? He threw it around his neck and began to dance about the dining room and I was reminded that this will not last. It will end with him until the first grandbaby comes along (my Christmas wish is that said grandbaby will not arrive for many years). But there is only maybe another year, possibly two, until this baby boy will discover that just being a sillyhead is not a socially acceptable thing to do whenever the mood strikes. He's singing his version of Jingle Bell Rock in the living room right now. But the dancing; the racing into the living room stark naked and doing a little dance and then dashing away; the singing of his versions of songs; the just being a total goofball, it will all begin to wane soon. I will miss it. It makes me laugh. Mitch didn't get it at first until I told him about how we all think it's so funny when Ryan does something like that but that, if it were Mitch doing it, we would be calling a specialist. Then he got it.

Five is good. Five gets to sing in the store. Five gets to have a belly and it's cute. Five takes baths with lots of bubbles and makes beards with them. Five gets to color for homework. Five gets to ask questions about things they don't understand and no one blinks an eye. Five gets soooo excited at EVERY house with Christmas lights on it. Five can't wait to tell Santa what it wants and believes with all its heart that he will come through for them. Five is rabid about the advent calendar. Five thinks cinnamon toast is THE best invention ever. Five wears cowboy boots with EVERYTHING, even shorts. Five has toes that, when you look at them from underneath, look just like little flesh colored peas straight from a pod. Five can have a Kool-Aid mustache and it is completely acceptable. Five gets feety pajamas with a saggy butt and it looks good. Five is enchanted with snow. Five is good. I love it and I will miss it.

But ten... Oh, ten. Ten is pretty good, too. Now, to be fair, we've only been ten for a day. Actually, if you want to get technical, we're not even ten for another 8 minutes, but whatever. Anyway, as I sat scanning pictures for Mitch's graduation slide show the other night, Ryan was at the dining room table doing his homework. It's not coloring sheets anymore (damn) and, to be honest, it's been a difficult year as there is waaaaay more homework in 4th grade than I ever remember. I think I made a papier mache relief map of Washington and that's all I really remember. Oh, and that Nina and Barbara did an amazing gymnastics routine to the song Carwash for the school talent show.

So, Ryan is doing homework and I'm scanning photos. And, that's when I heard it. I turned around to see him sitting there with his headphones on listening to music on his mp3 and singing to himself. Some things never change, I guess. I was reminded of the five year old boy I knew. I'll be honest, he still is kind of a sillyhead. I'm ok with that. He talks to anyone and everyone regardless of whether he knows them or not. He's always got a story to tell. In some ways he is still the boy I knew five years ago. He is bold without being fearless. He is sensitive without being gushy. He is a boy with a hint of a child and a smidge of the man he will become.

Ten is good. Ten is in track and proves that all the running he's done while being chased by older brothers has paid off. Ten still has toes that look like baby peas. Ten is about to be a fifth grader and one of the oldest kids at school. Ten picks out its own outfits. Ten is a little more fashion conscious now and then and likes to wear ties to school. Ten knows how to keep a secret. Most of the time. Ten carries the burdens of life like Atlas. Ten can drop the burden at the prospect of ice cream. Ten can cook Top Ramen by itself but can't put together a spaghetti dinner yet. Ten is thoughtful. About a lot of things. Ten has survived Human Growth & Development at school and "umm...that was weird." Ten is best friends with its dog. Ten loves zombies but still can't watch The Sixth Sense at night time. Ten is on the cusp of middle school. Ten still loves the book Corduroy. Ten is good. I love it just as much as five.