Puppies and Dogs

My friend Jennifer once did a post on her blog about her oldest son. Her friends had given her a hard time about neglecting him in her posts. He was getting older, and essentially not as "entertaining" as his younger siblings. He was past the point of monthly milestones; his outward appearance wasn't changing with the weeks. The puppy--as Jennifer put it--grew into a dog.

Thomas will be 7 in just two short weeks. He is a big kid now. He does big kid things. He reads books. He makes his own peanut butter crackers when he gets home from school (his face isn't the only thing he got from his Podge...). He looks after his little sisters, asks lots of questions, plays 11 songs on the violin, and is a great student. He'd rather play Mario Kart than almost anything, and still balks at the vegetables I place in front of him each night.

Thomas played basketball this winter, and has proven--once again--his athleticism. It's too bad the kid has no skills. Soccer started today, and he's excited to be with his teammates once again. And he's still a runnin' fool. He actually ran with me on Sunday. I had a moment toward the end of our jaunt (1.6 miles--he said he needed to come home, but to be honest with you, I think he was bored--the kid wasn't even out of breath). We turned onto our street and he pulled ahead of me considerably. I couldn't believe it, really. My son. My son is big enough to go for a Sunday jog around the neighborhood with me...really?

Basketball--Winter 09

I like this action shot. (It's dark--I had it on the wrong setting I suppose) This was the hardest game of the year so far--the player Thomas was covering was a head taller than he was--even with the fauxhawk.

Okay, and just a follow-up on the aforementioned Masklophobia Rose suffers from. EVERY week she must endure this guy at Thomas' basketball game. Must the girl be tortured at every turn?!?