Seven to me is an important age. It’s the age I remember most acutely from my own childhood. It was the year (1979) we moved from the suburbs of Boston to Boston proper, the first year I went to sleep-away camp, the year I started at The Boston Ballet, the first time I started to fantasize about killing myself. Bobby on the surface looks so young, but I know from my own experience how deep those waters run. They are not to be underestimated.
As is tradition, my sister and I got a plain Costco cake and had fun decorating it to the theme of Superheroes:
The boys lost their minds a bit with all the excitement of the weekend - their behavior went sideways, and Bobby started pooping his pants again, and Theo peed on the floor last night and peed his pants at the park today. You’d think these kids would be old enough now to not become completely discombobulated by a birthday party and a visiting aunt...but apparently not. I sure hope things settle down this week as things go back to normal.
The boys got huge amounts of LEGO sets and are currently putting one together without adult supervision, which is great. At this rate we have enough LEGO sets to entertain them for about a year!
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