I like 9 years old. It’s the biggest of the little guys. So close to double digits, but not quite there yet.
The 9 year old in my house is cool enough to hang with his older brother’s friends.
But he’s not above playing superheroes with his younger brothers.
Amidst the chaos of our home, I typically find him tucked in a corner engrossed in a book. Any book. A chapter book from the Warrior series, Diary of a Wimpy Kid (for the 27th time), an encyclopedia of animals…even his youngest brother’s picture book, borrowed from the library. He pours over books in silence. For hours. He’s immersed in a world that, 4 years ago, didn’t even exist for him as a kindergarten boy who was just learning to read and write his name.
Our 9 year old boy has confidently…and accurately…labeled himself an artist and a storyteller. I love that he shares my passion for running and writing.
But I think it’s the things he is good at that I’m not…like his unbelievable artistic talent…that make me most proud of him. It’s fun to be his Mom. I’m intrigued by him. I wonder who he will grow up to be.
The amazingly talented Denise Ullem of Universal Grit writes about Nine today. Her daughter is nine, and I get such a kick out of reading about the world of her nine year old girl. It’s a world so foreign yet appealing to me. Please go read Denise at This is Childhood: Nine….