Today, Simeon turns eleven and his feet are a little larger than mine. This picture was taken by Alex on the porch. I like to let the two oldest stay up after bedtime to read with me on the porch. We sit out there in our pajamas on warm summer evenings with a stack of library books and a pitcher of lemonade, drinking in ideas and the feel of a summer evening while enjoying one another's quiet company. I really enjoy this summer activity and time with my books and these boys.
We can't stay up so late every night, though, and on this particular night when this picture was taken, I had let them stay up because I had promised earlier in the day, but in reality I was really really tired that night and much too short on patience. Though I was tired, we still managed to read our books, have a good time and laugh and tease when we discovered that Simeon's feet had officially outgrown mine. Then, after this picture was taken, Simeon accidentally knocked over a glass of lemonade and I really didn't handle that well. I sent the boys up to bed in an angry tone and mumbled something about not being able to handle more work after a long day.
As I mopped up the lemonade, though, I had time to reflect and regret my words. I headed upstairs and sat on Simeon's bed. "I'm sorry," I said, "I really had fun tonight. I was just so tired and..."
"It's OK, Mom," he said "I know how you feel."
And I really felt he did. I tell this story because it captures somehow what this oldest son of mine has become. At eleven, he's this funny mix of little and grown boy, still prone to knock over a glass of lemonade, but mature enough to know how to comfort his mom afterward.
I love you, Simeon, and am so proud of you. Happy Birthday.