Perfect Ten

Ten years ago I gave birth to a beautiful, blue-eyed, 10-pound boy...which was just as ridiculously painful as it sounds. But he grew on me.

And what a huge year it's been for Tysie - this year he's again excelling in all things math, and has added to his already brimming schedule regular practice times with the Clear Sky choir and is representing the heck out of his fourth-grade class, in addition to two kindie classes, as a Student Council representative.
Here, as he awaits his gifts expectantly, dad psyches him out with his hoodie instead. Oh, the madcap hilarity of a Crawford birthday!
The real goods. Which is all he really cares about these days: football and baseball, but not necessarily in that order. He's given up soccer (I hate to say it, but flippin' YAHOO!), granting us a blessed few fall weekends of stress-free enjoyment, but I just KNOW that next year he'll be demanding the gridiron. I don't mind it. Goodness knows, if there's one thing I truly enjoy, it's football. But, oh, those blessed few fall weekends of stress-free enjoyment! How I lament thy loss!

No need to call Social Services - he had a real cake at the birthday party. Pictures at eleven.

To sum up: we absolutely adore Ty. He's my main man, my angel boy, someone I'm endlessly proud of and can't wait to see at the end of every school day. One-sixth of my greatest blessings.

So there.