Football, Bubblegum and Double Digits
Matt is ten. Excuse me for a minute while I hide my head. Or laugh. Or run screaming from this room. I haven’t decided yet.
Crazy year. Zach turned sixteen. Hannah hit teen-ager status. And now this…
He reached for my hand during church Sunday but not to hold it. Instead, he began to intently measure us finger to finger, one by one, in the same way that he often compares our feet. And these days, if we stand next to one another Matt will reflexively run a hand across the top of his head in a straight line to my chin, grinning at my feigned horror as his hand creeps ever higher toward my nose…
He is measuring much more than mere physical progress though. This past week Matt tallied the year’s accomplishments: whistling whole songs, blowing bubbles with his gum, playing on a football team, operating the garage door keypad (he mastered the armpit noise years ago)… Matt is a contemplative soul taking stock of the first ten years of his journey.
When Hannah was two-ish, I used to cradle her little face and ask her oh so tenderly, “are you my youngest or my middle child?” Hannah didn’t have much to say on the subject of additional brothers, but she eventually gained Matthew.
He has grown from beloved family mascot (toted to his first soccer game when he was three days old) to a wise and funny force. Matt is one of those
remarkable people who is simply determined to be happy. I love that. He doesn’t leave the house for school in the morning so much as launch himself into the day. He is exuberant, charming, tender and always hopeful. He knows how to ask for what he needs (“Mom, I really need a massage. I’ve had a hard day.”), something many of us struggle to do for a lifetime. He also knows how to give… flowers, hugs and his own quite wonderful shoulder rubs. He knows how to make all of us laugh and when his mom really needs a smile.
Matt is the youngest of three so he’s a little wiser and a little more confident than his siblings might have been. Had Matt been in his older brother Zach’s class, I’d have watched to see if this slightly savvy long-haired kid would be a good influence. Because people notice Matt and he can make anything sound fun. Even standing in snow drifts to catch his kicks (because every season is football season) and sledding across a not-quite-frozen creek…
He says “thank you” both for current kindnesses as well as for long ago events. I think the enduring quality of his gratitude is a major component of his optimistic perspective. Something to think about…
He’s been my bodyguard (“sign here for an hour’s service”), cheese waiter (“mark down what kind of cheese you want me to bring you”) and self-designated family trash man, faithfully hauling the cans to the curb every Wednesday (or is it Thursday? Have to ask Matt…).
Matt has created dozens of little routines with me that give daily life a brighter glow. From tossing a mini football every morning before school (in the house… can you tell he’s my youngest?) to a little Italian phrase he translated to speak to me as he leaves to catch his bus…
Yeah. I’m a fan. So I guess I’ll skip the screaming and the hiding and just laugh with him. Matt’s tenth year measurement marked on the inside of the kitchen pantry brings him a little closer to my height, but ten years with Matt has brought him even closer to my heart.
