One decade ago, I met a fascinating little human named Ezra.
Of the three of them, Ezra is the one whose personality seeming popped out fully formed from the womb. He's just a taller version of himself now.
Not to say he's not always full of surprises. We didn't see the flute coming (loves it, obsessed with it), and last week he came home from school and announced -- after years of rejecting any and all team sports like soccer or basketball -- that he wanted to sign up for our county's cricket league. Cricket? Are you sure?
Yep, seems about right, actually.
He's a dreamy romantic (currently living through his first predictable heartbreak, alas), a sensitive empath yet wonderfully self-assured and confident, and someone for whom farts and burps are the pinnacle of comedy. He is incredibly kind and quick to compliment others, and insists on holding the door for everybody, because manners. No, he won't take off his glasses, they're important, and he asked that instead of a closet full of Noah's t-shirt hand-me-downs if he could possibly get more button-down shirts.
"I like looking fancy," he explained as we shopped for said fancy shirts at Old Navy. He found one covered in a hamburger print. "This is PERFECT."
We took him out for a fancy birthday dinner last night, just the three of us. He brought Hobbes and an ancient beat-up dog named Jingle who no longer actually jingles, because he was suddenly stricken with the realization that he'd never taken Jingles to a fancy restaurant before. So Jingles came along. Ezra decided he would enjoy the soup.
(Ezra, in fact, very much enjoyed the soup.)
For his at-home birthday dinner tonight, he's requested meatloaf and mashed sweet potatoes. He couldn't decide between cheesecake and carrot cake, so I'll be attempting a franken-bake of both stacked together for him. His brothers tried to give him his presents all weekend but he wouldn't hear of it. After school, on his actual birthday, and not a moment before.
Ten. Two hands, ten fingers. Into the double digits. Another year and the continued privilege to watch Ezra be Ezra, in all his wonderful Ezra-ness.