Ryan's birthday was Tuesday. (This is not a recent picture of him, but it is one of my favorites.)
I was at work and one of my friends asked me how old he was. When I replied "nine" we both almost fell over at how fast time flies. I got pregnant about a month after I was hired, and that means that this December marks ten years that I have been working with this company. No way.
Ryan remains the cuddliest little boy I ever met. He has a temper, but for the most part, is very sweet. He still says, before he starts his sentence/statements to me, "But first, a hug." I love that little squeeze, even if he's about to deliver bad news.
He does a face that is a spot-on imitation of one of his father's expressions. He is shameless when he is trying to get me to cave, throwing that lower lip out like a pro. It's hard to resist him, and he knows it.
He had a nice day, his Dad and I took him to lunch, while the other kids were at school. He had his favorite pizza for dinner, and I made him a cake so he could have the requisite "Happy Birthday" song and candles to blow out.
I still call him "Sugar," although it has morphed into the more mature "Suggity-Buggity".
Isn't that the beginning number in the "tween" age group? (9-12)
It's a good thing I have an appt to get my hair colored Monday. I feel some more gray coming on....