So I have a 12 year old. Birthdays are always bittersweet. On one hand each birthday means another year has passed. What happened and what didn't happened, the good parenting moments, the bad parenting moments...they are all gone. Watching my kids grow up means that one day they will indeed be grownups living a life not quite as connected to me as it is during childhood. And that's a good thing. Afterall my goal is to create independent Americans who can prosper on their own without me making all the decisions. Each year that passes I see tangible signs of our children taking steps in the right direction. Each year brings a child who is less and less dependent and more and more an ally. I get to enjoy new experiences with older kids without the hassle of constant hand-holding.
Nick enjoyed opening gifts bright and early in the morning with brothers looking on.
The loot: treestand, Harry Potter DVDs, wool socks, long underwear, socks, bird hunting vest, winter gloves, leather work gloves, .22 Bore snake and Mythbusters science kit.
Another birthday joy - being 12 and helping dad cut wood
My boy, now 12, had to write a gratitude list for spelling this week and here's his list.
family
woods
guns
snowmobiles
four-wheelers
traps
fishing
friends
snow
airsoft guns
And that pretty much sums him up. Happy Birthday, Nick!
