This is Grayson’s first professional photo. I think he might be thinking, “You are really letting me leave the hospital with these two clueless people? Really? C’mon! They’ve never even changed a diaper before!”

Robb and I are both youngest children. Possibly spoiled. Possibly self-absorbed. We really had no idea what we were getting ourselves into when we brought this poor little kid home with us. Lucky for us he is smarter than us. And last week he turned seven. Holy crap.


You are kind of like our hearts just out in the world walking around, La-Di-Da, like it’s nothing that our hearts are OUTSIDE OF OUR BODIES. I can’t even describe what that feels like.

You don’t really eat anything so I’m not sure how you are growing so tall and gangly all of a sudden.

Today you will get off the bus and you will have these little notes written out on individual notecards of all the things you want to do when you get home. They will say, “Write in my notebook, wake my sister up, make rock candy, look at nature.”

Right now you have your Dad’s goofiness and my ditziness. Sorry about that. This combination can sometimes backfire. Mostly at dinner time.

Last night you had a nightmare and we cuddled on the couch and we talked about what you would like to dream about instead of rocking chairs falling through ceilings and your friends turning into zombies. You decided that flying through the forest would be a good dream.

You think your Dad is the Coolest Thing Ever right now. I get it. No hard feelings.

You like to do what you call “skyping” which is really sketching. And we don’t correct you because you saying this is like one of those last tethers to you still being little and we are keeping it.

You love your little sister. I mean you REALLY love her. Your teacher told us that Nora is the star of your 1st grade classroom because you write so many stories about her. And you can’t stand it if she is having a rough moment because you just want to fix everything for her. When she was mad at me because I asked her to close the door, I totally saw you help her, I just pretended not to.

You are unable to do armpit farts. Which is a source of great frustration to you. I think it might have something to do with the lack of armpit fat or something.

You are the most cheerful morning person I have ever met. Thank you for this.

You have this brand-new glint in your eye since 1st grade started. It occasionally accompanies the brand-new eye roll. It reminds me of your Dad therefore it simultaneously annoys me and amuses me.

You are a master rock-collector, rainbow-loom bracelet maker, scientific experimenter, cartwheeler, story-writer, bike-rider, skier, amazing spit-bubble blower, and lover of all things Woody Woodpecker.

You are kind. And I can’t really ask for more than that.


If this makes you happy, then you should be overjoyed to know that I’m on Facebook and Instagram and Twitter and even Pinterest!

4 thoughts on “Grayson. Seven.

  1. Cindy Frigard says:

    Joelle, I love reading your posts. And, HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS to Gray!

  2. Too beautiful. Thank you!

    1. joellewisler says:

      Thanks Grammy-can’t wait to see you on Saturday!

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