Dear Sam,

Your Aunt Emily told me a funny story about something your cousins said when they were visiting Grandma and Grandpa this summer.  Connor, Ian and maybe Erin were looking at an old family picture that was hanging on the wall in the sewing room that  must have been taken around the time I was your age.  They called out, “Hey, it’s Sam! In a dress! With long hair!”

We’ve since gotten out my scrapbooks for further proof that you do, in fact, look like me when I was your age (only with short hair and glasses) and I see you smile when I call you my mini-me.  It’s a game we parents often play: which child looks like who or has which traits, and I like that you have some of mine.  We share the same large brown eyes and sandy hair.   But, sometimes, I recognize the stirrings in your soul as well.

You are a peacemaker.  Sure, you get as irritated with your brothers as they do with you, but for the most part, you want everyone to be happy and getting along.  I so get that.  I understand the stress you feel when you’ve disappointed someone or how badly it feels to be left out.  I know how hard you want to please everyone, putting your own wants and wishes aside to make someone else’s lot better.  I see the weight on your shoulders when your perfectionism gets too heavy to bear.

I’m not quite sure when you turned into the serious young man you are.  I have a vivid memory of you at only two and a half, leaping fearlessly off of the blown up waterside Aunt Jen had in her backyard during a family reunion.  Oh, you were still the sweet and helpful little boy then that you are now but you had a risk-taking, dare devil side that came out much more often.  I still see it occasionally, like this past summer when you led both your dad and older brother out onto a cliff at Lake Navajo and were the first to jump off.  Most of the time, however, you are a strict rule-abiding, helmet wearing, teeth brushing boy.  Whom I adore.

Your pants are almost all too short.  I need to buy you some that fit better but it’s hard to get excited about shopping for more track pants and t-shirts.  You refuse to wear jeans because they hurt your knees (????) and your track pants seem to have all been hemmed an inch or two overnight.  Your teeth are crooked and you’re starting to care.  I’m pretty sure you aren’t interested in girls but when I came into school the other day, I’m pretty sure some are interested in you.  I remember third grade.  Girls like boys.  Gross as that seems to you now, you will one day all too soon appreciate your innate charm.

You are crazy about sports.  Whenever I say I have never heard of whichever famous player you are talking about, in any sport, you say, “You’re killing me, Mom.”  Rare is the day when you aren’t playing with your football helmets or creating some kind of bracket/playoff game on paper.  Your dad says this oddity comes from him:-)  You are very athletic and enjoy sports, although this was a tough year for soccer.  I don’t know which you like more: playing the sport or playing with your friends and it wasn’t much fun to be put on a separate team from most of them.

Your teachers and coaches love you.  How could they not?  You are smart, diligent and kind. You work hard.  You respect their authority.  You have the tidiest desk I’ve ever seen.  I have no idea where you got that tidy gene as neither your dad or me seem to be naturally tidy.  But you are.  You like your things to have a place.  You always put your clothes where they belong.  You always do your homework right away and leave your folder out on the kitchen counter for me to sign.  You’ve even started making your own lunch so that I can sleep for a few more minutes in the morning.

If I’m making you sound perfect, I can’t help it.  Sometimes, I think that you are.  You certainly are my easiest child.  I think you know how much I enjoy your easy nature and worry that it puts more pressure on you to be a certain way.  I hope you know that I love you regardless of any mistakes or messes or moods.  I love you entirely.

Happy ninth birthday.  You are such a joy to know.  My life - our family - the world is better because of you.

Love,
Mom

Trying out a big 26” bike in the parking lot of the bike store.

Such a big bike, as big as mine, but you, huge nine year old, are big enough to get it!

Of course, you wanted one that a bit more oomph to the color.  So we got you a helmet to match.  Yellow is your favorite color, after all.

Nine candles on a pretty unimpressive pan of gluten-free brownies.

A sweet non-fighting moment with your brother

Not a gang sign but apparently what you do to make sure your wishes come true

You chose to go to a rock climbing wall for your birthday party because I didn’t want to have to do anything for it:)

You climbed for almost the entire time you were there.

One of your friends helping Henry.

Cute friends of yours.

And THIS is why I didn’t want it at our house.  Nine year olds are loud and busy.

Your funny side.  What you do when you get a hold of my iPhone.

Alien Sam.

Serious Sam.

Persevering Sam.

Athletic Sam.

Absolutely adorable Sam.