Lucky 7 for a lucky little man

Always the baby?
London, ON, July 2007 [Click all images to make him grow up]

Before we tucked Noah in last night, he excitedly asked if he would be seven years-old when he woke up the next morning. Yes, we assured him, he would be. So with a big smile and even bigger hugs, he pulled his Buzz Lightyear comforter tightly around his wiggling form and drifted off to sleep.

At 1 a.m., he meandered into our room, expertly tunneled his way between us and the no-longer-sleeping dog, and pulled out his loose tooth. He slept there, quietly, before bounding downstairs at first light, waiting for his big brother and big sister to join him for what promised to be an eventful day.

Such is life for our youngest, a never-ending series of happy moments. Perhaps more than any other child I've ever known, he manages to find a reason to smile no matter where he is or what he's doing. He sings to himself while he plays, and often runs over to us and gives us hugs and kisses, or simply thanks us, just because. Sometimes, I sit off to the side and watch him go through his day, amazed at the goodness that seems to come out of his every pore. Yes, I'm his dad and I'm supposed to be biased. But there's something about him that stands out. I want to be more like him when I grow up.

As far as birthdays go, this one seemed conventional on the surface. We had mommy-made chocolate chip pancakes and birthday cake for breakfast before his grandparents headed back home. We saw a movie. We ate junk food. He told Debbie that this was his best birthday ever. And yet it isn't over: He'll have a party with his friends at a local indoor jungle gym this weekend. In short, all the little things that a little boy does on this important day.

So busy was his big day that he fell asleep on the living room floor, right in the middle of playing with the dog. Debbie carried him upstairs, pausing so that I could kiss his foot, another silly little tradition of ours. With time, he gets heavier and the foot gets bigger and stinkier. But we hold onto this one because we don't know how much longer either one of us will be able to carry him. He may no longer be a baby, but he'll always be our baby, and I'll be one sad dad when I can no longer carry our littlest guy to bed.

May all your milestones be sweet, may all your days be happy, and may everyone around you always be infected by your smile, my little Sunshine Boy.

Your turn: One of the advantages of keeping a blog going for a few years is you get to revisit days like this. If you feel like going back in time, please click on the links for Noah's 4th, 5th and 6th birthday entries. How do you celebrate a birthday?

About today's pictures...
#1 - Taken just before dropoff at day camp earlier this month.
#2 - The last picture ever taken of him as a 6-year-old, at tuck-in last night.
#3 - Tonight, all tuckered out after his big day.

One more thing: My wife wrote about Noah's big day on her blog (click here). She's a lovely read. And a lovely person, too. Otherwise how does one explain a child like him?