Last month my eldest turned nine. I got completely sidetracked and forgot to write up a birthday post, which is kinda sad since that is the only post I've been writing lately.
Munch is nine now. Almost a decade. I've been a Mama for ALMOST A DECADE. That is so bizarre.
I might be a bit biased, but he is AMAZING.
He always jumps to help whenever I ask for it and rarely complains about it. He's also a bit of a mother hen and SOMETIMES has to be reminded that he isn't the parent.
He still loves hugs and snuggles, which I secretly hope he won't ever grow out of...even though I know in my heart he probably will. He's growing up too quickly.
He cannot get enough peanut butter, bacon or pineapple OR pizza. (Not all at once...that would be gross.)
He always has his nose in a book and is currently working his way through Harry Potter. He adores all things Ancient Egypt, wishes he could join The Doctor in the TARDIS and loves playing Magic with his dad and Nox.
He currently wants to be a game designer or an Egyptologist when he grows up. He always wants to be a father, that's always been on the list.