Red, in the bunting that greeted him this morning.
Green, in the cake that he wanted to make and decorate himself.
Of course by "himself" I mean that he did it with two eager brothers next to him, hopping from foot to foot and squealing, "please can I do some? Can I? Can I? Huh? Pleeeeeeeease?" And of course he obliged.
I'm proud to say that I only cried a little bit today… when I was thinking about the day I first met him. He was so small and I was certain that someone would show up any second to whisk him away. Surely they would find him a better mother when they realized that he was too perfectly beautiful to be entrusted to me. We looked at the photos of his first day together… it nearly did me in.
Then I got all sappy again when I thought about what a cool person he is becoming, loyal, generous and thoughtful. He loves fiddle music and karate. He's sentimental and nostalgic. He dreams of farming and doing things "the old fashioned way." He loves his brothers and his chickens fiercely. He says "I love you" a lot. He's truly a great kid.
I would have cried some more, a lot more, if I had let myself really think about the fact that if the next 8 years pass as quickly… he'll soon be 16 and wanting to celebrate with his friends and borrow the car and …
I'm just not going to go there. Not yet.
For now I'm just going to soak up every little bit of eight.