If he wasn't such a cool kid, ten would be harder on his mom. When my friends' kids turned ten, I marveled that they had been parents for a decade. And those little babies that we cuddled and snuggled and kissed and bounced and babysat while we all tried to keep juggling our work and "before-kid-social lives," and while their younger siblings were born (!), had hit the double digits. Big deal.

Now it's our turn. TEN.
October of 1997 was both a long time ago, and just yesterday.

Overnight it seems he has outwardly spurned (though secretly loved) the toys of his boyhood. GI Joes, legos and even stuffed animals still play a big role in his life, but now it's crowded out by things like hunting rifles, stunt bikes and guitars.

He is offended when we demand he order off of the kids' menu at restaurants, and suddenly he is concerned about his hair, and is even getting spunkier with his clothes (this was delightful to me though, that he branched out to wear plaid shorts this summer, and considered a pink tshirt).

He is assigned man chores. He is who I call when any electronics need to be hooked up or moved. He can carry some heavy things for me. He's growing up and it is so exciting to see the man God is growing. And that God entrusted us to do the parent thing with this precious boy.

He had a kayaking birthday party which is ten million times better than the Chuck E Cheese gigs we tried to pull off when he was THREE and (what were we thinking?) FOUR. Giles spent his actual birthday "weekend" in the deer woods with his uncle on a youth hunt. Let's just say the freezer remains empty but he had a great time!

Happy Birthday Giles!