It feels like we were just celebrating 10, but alas my oldest has turned 11. He's matured this past year and started to become more independent, but he still tells me he loves me every day, still goes to bed reading a book every night, and still gets annoyed if his bed sheets aren't perfect. I love his quirks and his smile and how big his heart is. He kills it at academic competitions, does the daily Wordle and mini crossword, and loves it when Jeopardy has questions about Greek mythology. He plays online games with his friend group and likes exchanging friendship bracelets. He asks me to paint his nails and doesn't care what anyone thinks. Sometimes he walks home from school, just to get some exercise and fresh air. He loves his little bro and our Corgi. He's super picky about foods, and has annoyingly high standards around macaroni and cheese. He got his love of soft pretzels from me. His favorite dessert choice is Sweet Frog frozen yogurt. He doesn't hesitate to grab the microphone when we're playing Rock Band. He's a very good kid and I'm lucky to be his mom.
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