Twisty G turns 7. I need to lie down.
Dear Tristan,
It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was one of those days where I had to wonder what the world will be like by the time you're old enough to read this? Will you recognize that as a literary quote or accidentally credit your poor old ma for a temporarily fluke of brilliance?
Frankly I can use all the help I can get.
Son of a smartass and a misfit fratboy, it's not like it's entirely unexpected that you might turn out slightly more colourful than the norm. What took me entirely off guard was how fast the transition happened. Last year you were my kindness and caring award winning kindergartener who loved me more that rollercoasters and cotton candy and toys. Your words. Pinky swear.
Then you started Grade 1 and we wound up in meetings with the vice principle after you got in your first fight followed up by your teacher calling to let me know you'd been busted giving The Finger.
And that was just week one.
By week 2 you clearly couldn't be seen in public holding my hand anymore. Mother, please. By week 3 you really hit your stride when I was explaining where babies come from on the walk to the bus, because how else would we spend our mornings? When I was done you deadpanned "I don't believe you. I don't believe any grownups anymore."
Wow dude AT SIX?? I honestly intended on teaching you to question all authority but I was kind of hoping you'd master tying your own shoes first you know? I didn't know whether to high five each other or pour you your first shot. I still don't.
But before you go getting too smug I should point out that you're also the kid that randomly does things like this...
Your artwork has come a long way in a year, I think your shot at a new car is getting stronger. From your grandparents at any rate.
And it's not like you've lost your charm entirely. When you and Riley saw me painting my toes red I was surprised by how eagerly you both wanted to join me
How much cuter can you get than learning to change a tire with your daddy?
I'm not sure where the gunshow pose came from this year?
But you started busting it out with adorable frequency
You still love being the one Riley turns to for help
This is you trying to teach him how to ride a bike without training wheels
Somewhere, somehow you saw a pic of a mohawk and were DETERMINED to have one. This was my mom's attempt to appease you
But once summer hit we decided what the hell and let you shave it. Before Grade 1. Do you have any ideas how many cocktails you will be fetching me for that?
You finally lost your first tooth and still have the $5 the tooth fairy left you. You hoard money like I hoard vodka. :D
This is us at Canada's Wonderland for the first time, where you were finally big enough to ride almost all of the rollercoasters. Absolutely nothing scares you kid.
We hit fandangos, Wild Water Kingdom, Great Wolf Lodge and everywhere we went you wanted on the biggest rides they had. The first time I was all 'you were awesome today baby, I can't believe you went on all those big rides by yourself!'
You immediately came back with "no YOU were so awesome today mom. I can't believe you LET ME go on all those big rides by myself!"
Progress. :)
Of course it wasn't long until:
You: C'mon mom! You HAVE to ride The Cliff with me! It will make you the coolest mom in the whole wide world!
Me: I'm already the coolest mom in the whole wide world
T: I'll buy you a new computer!
M: You don't have enough money
T: I'll make Daddy buy you some new jewelry!
Sold! Honestly I was totally going to ride it anyways, I was just curious where you were going to go with this. I can't believe at SIX you've already got it down so smooth
We didn't know it at the time of course, but this is the last picture we got to take with your grampa before he died.
I'm so glad our last memory is on his birthday. He was so touched and thrilled by the birdhouses you made for him. You helped him blow out the candles on his birthday cake and finish his champagne toast and then got to play the Kung Fu Panda game he 'bought for himself' but secretly for you.
It hasn't escaped my attention that your change in attitude not only coincided with the start of Grade 1, but also with the loss of your grampa. This was so epically huge and you are so young to have to grapple with something this complicated.
We tried to answer your questions as best as possible but death is scary even at my age so I can't imagine what it's like to figure it out at yours. Couldn't we get a new heart for Grampa to make him not die? Grampa made the best breakfasts, who was going to make your Sunday breakfasts now? Did grandma put his body in the ground? How did grampa get to the stars? Did he take a rocket ship or was it more like the wind blowing him up there? Can grampa still smell stuff now?
We answer them as best as we can but its really hard to get a handle on how you're dealing with it all. For all that you chatter nonstop, ask you about anything serious and you'll shut down like Fort Knox. Not unlike a certain 3 ft taller version we know.
There have been an ocean of tears and there still are sometimes. But amazingly life does go on. School had to start. And here you are with the 1,000 Eyed Pumpkin you designed at Halloween
My super hero squad this year
The only way to get dorky matching pictures anymore is to bribe with you with cool mohawked Bumblebee hats. Or Christmas.
You don't even want to know how much cajoling and threatening it took to get this one stinking picture.
Throw presents in the game though and suddenly you're Mr. Cooperative.
This year you finally got to start hockey too. It's the first athletic thing you've tried that you weren't automatically good at.
Your first time out there you fell as soon as you hit the ice. You got back up and went straight back down again. Up, down. Up, down. For one solid hour. You started as That Kid, you know the one everyone else is cringing for and wondering why the hell his parents are doing this to him?
I've never seen a kid flail that hard or fall that dramatically. They had to pull a coach away to work with just you. Still you fell. And got up. And fell again. And got up again.
Funny thing happened the longer you kept falling. You became That Kid, you know the one those same previously cringing parents now couldn't help but admire because you just wouldn't quit. You were The Little Engine That Couldn't but you didn't care. If you had to die trying so be it but you weren't giving up.
The first words out of your mouth when you came off the ice were "mom, that was so hard. Can we stay so I can practice some more?"
Where do you get that kind of determination at 6? I'm kind of in awe, I'm not gonna lie. As a glimpse of the kind of man you'll someday be, I couldn't ask for more.
Speaking of which it's terrifying how manlike you're looking on that hockey card.
You've kept practicing and you've kept trying despite the fact that you're not very good yet and its not coming easy. You haven't scored your first goal but you did get 3 assists this first season.
And you're still so sweet when it comes to your brother to take all these hard learned skills and try to teach them to him...
Look dude I get it. I negotiated my bedtime with my mom too. Again, not AT SIX.
What I hadn't counted on is how much fun your dad would add to the mix. Rather than argue with you like I would have he said 'fine, if you'll EAT SUSHI you can stay up an extra half an hour'...
Seriously nothing phases you.
And so here were are, at what will no doubt be your last Chuck E Cheese birthday because you've since discovered Dave and Busters and the rat is all but forgotten
You're doing fantastic at school, rogue fingers aside and legitimately kick my ass at soccer every night in the back yard. I can't hold your hand anymore but you still sneak into bed for night time cuddles every chance you get. I haven't had to kiss a booboo in eons because you can shake it off like a man now, but you'll still take a transformer bandaid for the smallest of hangnails if I let you. Your dad pretty much walks on water while I'm proud to be just about the weirdest person you know.
You finally have an opinion about the clothes I buy and your questions about life are getting so much more interesting and harder to answer. I'm pretty sure the santa jig is up but you're smart enough to pretend to still believe so long as the presents keep coming. Or maybe you do still actually believe? Maybe you can't decide yourself from day to day which side of that fence you're on yet?
You want a puppy and to be a teacher and to go to France so that you can do all the speaking in French for us. You've decided you're already too old for Disneyland and can't believe you still have to use a booster seat in the car. You love stories about yourself as a baby while I can still picture you crystal clear as the tiny screaming bag of hell who used to be fighting me from that little crook in my arm right there. You know the one that's now reserved for noogies and to fend off flying fart attacks? You're funny and challenging and tough and sweet and I'm so much less worried about who you're going to end up being in life even if I'm not 100% sure we'll survive getting from here to there in one piece.
Gone are the days of flying tackle hugs the minute I walk in a room and welcome to my Carlsberg years where I have to fight for every kiss I get.
Don't tell anyone, but it might actually make me love you even more.
Love,
Mom
It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was one of those days where I had to wonder what the world will be like by the time you're old enough to read this? Will you recognize that as a literary quote or accidentally credit your poor old ma for a temporarily fluke of brilliance?
Frankly I can use all the help I can get.
Son of a smartass and a misfit fratboy, it's not like it's entirely unexpected that you might turn out slightly more colourful than the norm. What took me entirely off guard was how fast the transition happened. Last year you were my kindness and caring award winning kindergartener who loved me more that rollercoasters and cotton candy and toys. Your words. Pinky swear.
Then you started Grade 1 and we wound up in meetings with the vice principle after you got in your first fight followed up by your teacher calling to let me know you'd been busted giving The Finger.
And that was just week one.
By week 2 you clearly couldn't be seen in public holding my hand anymore. Mother, please. By week 3 you really hit your stride when I was explaining where babies come from on the walk to the bus, because how else would we spend our mornings? When I was done you deadpanned "I don't believe you. I don't believe any grownups anymore."
Wow dude AT SIX?? I honestly intended on teaching you to question all authority but I was kind of hoping you'd master tying your own shoes first you know? I didn't know whether to high five each other or pour you your first shot. I still don't.
But before you go getting too smug I should point out that you're also the kid that randomly does things like this...
Your artwork has come a long way in a year, I think your shot at a new car is getting stronger. From your grandparents at any rate.
And it's not like you've lost your charm entirely. When you and Riley saw me painting my toes red I was surprised by how eagerly you both wanted to join me
How much cuter can you get than learning to change a tire with your daddy?
I'm not sure where the gunshow pose came from this year?
But you started busting it out with adorable frequency
You still love being the one Riley turns to for help
This is you trying to teach him how to ride a bike without training wheels
Somewhere, somehow you saw a pic of a mohawk and were DETERMINED to have one. This was my mom's attempt to appease you
But once summer hit we decided what the hell and let you shave it. Before Grade 1. Do you have any ideas how many cocktails you will be fetching me for that?
You finally lost your first tooth and still have the $5 the tooth fairy left you. You hoard money like I hoard vodka. :D
This is us at Canada's Wonderland for the first time, where you were finally big enough to ride almost all of the rollercoasters. Absolutely nothing scares you kid.
We hit fandangos, Wild Water Kingdom, Great Wolf Lodge and everywhere we went you wanted on the biggest rides they had. The first time I was all 'you were awesome today baby, I can't believe you went on all those big rides by yourself!'
You immediately came back with "no YOU were so awesome today mom. I can't believe you LET ME go on all those big rides by myself!"
Progress. :)
Of course it wasn't long until:
You: C'mon mom! You HAVE to ride The Cliff with me! It will make you the coolest mom in the whole wide world!
Me: I'm already the coolest mom in the whole wide world
T: I'll buy you a new computer!
M: You don't have enough money
T: I'll make Daddy buy you some new jewelry!
Sold! Honestly I was totally going to ride it anyways, I was just curious where you were going to go with this. I can't believe at SIX you've already got it down so smooth
We didn't know it at the time of course, but this is the last picture we got to take with your grampa before he died.
I'm so glad our last memory is on his birthday. He was so touched and thrilled by the birdhouses you made for him. You helped him blow out the candles on his birthday cake and finish his champagne toast and then got to play the Kung Fu Panda game he 'bought for himself' but secretly for you.
It hasn't escaped my attention that your change in attitude not only coincided with the start of Grade 1, but also with the loss of your grampa. This was so epically huge and you are so young to have to grapple with something this complicated.
We tried to answer your questions as best as possible but death is scary even at my age so I can't imagine what it's like to figure it out at yours. Couldn't we get a new heart for Grampa to make him not die? Grampa made the best breakfasts, who was going to make your Sunday breakfasts now? Did grandma put his body in the ground? How did grampa get to the stars? Did he take a rocket ship or was it more like the wind blowing him up there? Can grampa still smell stuff now?
We answer them as best as we can but its really hard to get a handle on how you're dealing with it all. For all that you chatter nonstop, ask you about anything serious and you'll shut down like Fort Knox. Not unlike a certain 3 ft taller version we know.
There have been an ocean of tears and there still are sometimes. But amazingly life does go on. School had to start. And here you are with the 1,000 Eyed Pumpkin you designed at Halloween
My super hero squad this year
The only way to get dorky matching pictures anymore is to bribe with you with cool mohawked Bumblebee hats. Or Christmas.
You don't even want to know how much cajoling and threatening it took to get this one stinking picture.
Throw presents in the game though and suddenly you're Mr. Cooperative.
This year you finally got to start hockey too. It's the first athletic thing you've tried that you weren't automatically good at.
Your first time out there you fell as soon as you hit the ice. You got back up and went straight back down again. Up, down. Up, down. For one solid hour. You started as That Kid, you know the one everyone else is cringing for and wondering why the hell his parents are doing this to him?
I've never seen a kid flail that hard or fall that dramatically. They had to pull a coach away to work with just you. Still you fell. And got up. And fell again. And got up again.
Funny thing happened the longer you kept falling. You became That Kid, you know the one those same previously cringing parents now couldn't help but admire because you just wouldn't quit. You were The Little Engine That Couldn't but you didn't care. If you had to die trying so be it but you weren't giving up.
The first words out of your mouth when you came off the ice were "mom, that was so hard. Can we stay so I can practice some more?"
Where do you get that kind of determination at 6? I'm kind of in awe, I'm not gonna lie. As a glimpse of the kind of man you'll someday be, I couldn't ask for more.
Speaking of which it's terrifying how manlike you're looking on that hockey card.
You've kept practicing and you've kept trying despite the fact that you're not very good yet and its not coming easy. You haven't scored your first goal but you did get 3 assists this first season.
And you're still so sweet when it comes to your brother to take all these hard learned skills and try to teach them to him...
Look dude I get it. I negotiated my bedtime with my mom too. Again, not AT SIX.
What I hadn't counted on is how much fun your dad would add to the mix. Rather than argue with you like I would have he said 'fine, if you'll EAT SUSHI you can stay up an extra half an hour'...
Seriously nothing phases you.
And so here were are, at what will no doubt be your last Chuck E Cheese birthday because you've since discovered Dave and Busters and the rat is all but forgotten
You're doing fantastic at school, rogue fingers aside and legitimately kick my ass at soccer every night in the back yard. I can't hold your hand anymore but you still sneak into bed for night time cuddles every chance you get. I haven't had to kiss a booboo in eons because you can shake it off like a man now, but you'll still take a transformer bandaid for the smallest of hangnails if I let you. Your dad pretty much walks on water while I'm proud to be just about the weirdest person you know.
You finally have an opinion about the clothes I buy and your questions about life are getting so much more interesting and harder to answer. I'm pretty sure the santa jig is up but you're smart enough to pretend to still believe so long as the presents keep coming. Or maybe you do still actually believe? Maybe you can't decide yourself from day to day which side of that fence you're on yet?
You want a puppy and to be a teacher and to go to France so that you can do all the speaking in French for us. You've decided you're already too old for Disneyland and can't believe you still have to use a booster seat in the car. You love stories about yourself as a baby while I can still picture you crystal clear as the tiny screaming bag of hell who used to be fighting me from that little crook in my arm right there. You know the one that's now reserved for noogies and to fend off flying fart attacks? You're funny and challenging and tough and sweet and I'm so much less worried about who you're going to end up being in life even if I'm not 100% sure we'll survive getting from here to there in one piece.
Gone are the days of flying tackle hugs the minute I walk in a room and welcome to my Carlsberg years where I have to fight for every kiss I get.
Don't tell anyone, but it might actually make me love you even more.
Love,
Mom