Although he still wants to be near me, he isn't a lap sitter any more.
Occasionally I'm asked to snuggle with him when he's trying to stretch out his bedtime.
He brushes his own teeth, changes with the door closed and doesn't need bathing instruction.
Birthday Cake candles consisted of the #3 plus 4 single candles.
Reading is becoming less of a chore.
He still likes to run around the house on all fours and pretend he is an animal.
Bedtime snacks are still required.
Being 7 means I can tell him, "You'll have to wait," and know he won't pee his pants.
First Grade is an amazing year in school.
He can read his own Piano Lesson Book and practice independently.
Melt downs still occur.
Being pokey is now a way of life. He has his own schedule.
I can't spell things like t-r-e-a-t or p-o-o-l in front of him.
Nothing is a choking hazard, hardly anything is boring, and everything is fun to a 7-year-old.
Of all the great things a 7-year-old can do – what I'm able to do for him is dwindling. I didn't anticipate that happening so fast. Often I just want to scoop him up and carry him up the stairs or help him into the car only to find that he can do these things himself and what's more – I can no longer throw him over my shoulder or cradle him in my arms.
3+4 is a wonderful age. To many more Axel.