Ben

Gentle Ben.

At 6, nearly 7, you still live up to your name.

Two weeks into school, we see happy faces and hear about your learning.

You took the last cannonball off the diving board for the season at our pool Sunday evening as it was closing down, and your smile infects.

You have your moments, and you've picked up a touch of my sarcastic tone.  But, strange, you are starting to act out with understanding.  Your frustration will melt if we just explain things to you, and moments later you will spontaneously come to us with hugs and 'sorry's'. 

You are the light of your sisters' worlds.  You are stubborn.  And, boy, you are lazy--I've turned a corner to find a sister at each of your feet, tying your shoes for you.  But when the neighbor sees you, he can't help but shout, "Hello brother!" 

You often remark on your toys with wonder at why there aren't more weapons.  And you will tolerate Nicholas's energy and attacks to a point, but then watch out because he is sure to get what's coming.

My favorite line of yours right now is: "Mom, I was thinking..."  This is usually followed by a request for chocolate ice cream.

You tickle me, continually. And your heartfelt hugs melt my heart.