My first born, my little, is 10 years old today. It's hard to believe. In some ways he's so terribly mature for someone who just made it to two digits, having such compassion and worry for his family, eager to tackle high school math and composing the most impressive stories. In other ways, he's clearly his age or less, with no interest in girls and tearing up when he gets hurt playing soccer. In other words, he's my perfect little guy.
I don't know how I got so lucky, with such an amazing son. I expect, or more accurately, predict incredible things from him. Keegan is one of the smartest people I know, and my go-to with any questions about sports or interpreting the ridiculous documents they call instructions these days. I love that he's an avid coin collector and his eyes light up over a graph paper and mechanical pencils, yet when offered his choice of presents he chooses a VORTEX Nerf gun. I'm astounded that he can compose two page stories in Spanish and dribble around 6 players in soccer.
I do worry about him, as he possesses this combination of rule follower and perfectionist which will likely serve him well in some aspects, but makes homework a real nightmare these days. I'm not sure if it's the right thing to do, or even possible, but I'm trying to teach him to be happy with "good enough" or occasionally slacking off. Doing your best is a wonderful trait, but when I see him crumple up two sheets of papers and nearing tears over summarizing a "Time for Kids" article, it breaks my heart and I know his teacher would agree with me. I spent my high school years staying up late and getting up early to do homework, 5th grade is way to young for that.
So to my smaller than average, smarter and more athletic that average, more stressed than average son with a thorn lodged in his forehead, I wish you a super duper incredibly happy birthday. And for the record, I may have got him a nerf gun for his birthday, but I in no way condoned this gift, you could put an eye out with that thing.