Little Man

Kinson is growing up. He turned eleven years old last month - I remember when I was that age! Fifth grade was when I moved from La Grande to Aberdeen and went to four different schools that year. Kinson will have gone to four different schools, too. But he will have returned to La Grande!

Our oldest child is a talented kid. We've treated him like a little man from the moment he was born and we had no clue how to be parents. We have expected a lot from him and many times catch ourselves, realizing that he needs to be a little boy. Kinson is not afraid to speak or sing or act in front of an audience. He is highly impressionable, and he remembers everything he hears or reads. Sometimes he will quote verbatim (adding in voices) Calvin and Hobbes comics he read months ago and laugh at them, then say, "I'm not really sure what that meant. So, what does it mean?" And he loves to read - he has read all of the Harry Potter series - but he has an odd way of piecemealing his reading. He read the series out of order, sometimes reading the endings first.

Kinson has a perfectly round head. I can shave him bald and he looks great! Or I can give him any haircut without worrying about cowlicks or bumps, like most of the rest of the world. His hair is thick and is getting darker, though he spent his young life as a light blond.

I love Kinson. He is dramatic, energetic, kind, intelligent, creative, and sentimental. I could go on all day talking about what a great kid he is. I'm glad he's my son.