In June of last year I posted this blog post about who Garrett was, at the time.
It’s fourteen months later. And, just as I suspected, many things have changed.
He walks five paces behind me now on our way into school. Sometime he switches it up by running 90 paces ahead. But (thankfully) he still doesn’t want me to leave before the last bell rings. I usually get a small hug, but there are no more public kisses. And our ritual of yelling things to each other as he walks into class has been replaced with knowing glances and small smiles.
He hasn’t mentioned squid or the ocean in months, except to say how much he enjoyed running between the waves at the beach this summer.
He now only listens to popular music on the radio, no longer Big Time Rush. He knows the words to many a Bruno Mars song, Kelly Clarkson, Katey Perry, and One Direction… Just to name a few. He insists that the radio be on in the car and chooses his stations by yelling “NO” or “YES” from the backseat, as I toggle between them.
He holds doors open for people at the mall or at restaurants, and LOVES it when they tell him what a gentleman he is.
He is into every sport imaginable, and excels at basketball.
He seems to have a giant bucket of confidence at the ready.
He is obsessed with a show called “Jessie” and watches it whenever he gets the chance.
He loves school unless he’s exhausted. And even then, he seems to really like it.
He is incredibly kind.
He doesn’t hear anything I say until the fifth or sixth time I say it.
He calls his best friend his “brother”, and desperately wishes he had an actual sibling.
He is more independent at 6 (almost seven), than I was at 26.
He cares very deeply about being “cool”.
He is a little “too” into who does or doesn’t have crushes on him and whether or not he’ll have a girlfriend soon. But oh, how he likes the ladies.
He loves American Ninja Warrior.
He still doesn’t eat any vegetables except carrots and the occasional raw broccoli.
He is growing faster than I can keep up with. At the end of the summer I got rid of eight pairs of pants that fit him a couple months ago.
He is also maturing faster than I can take.
Today, his “brother’s” mom came to pick him up for a
play date get-together. He left the house wearing black pants, black shoes, a black shirt, and a black suit jacket. He’s apparently a detective now, and this is how he must dress. Even though it’s 100 degrees outside.
I am ever in awe of this little man. That, at least, is still unchanged.