I AM STILL NINE
for the next few hours, anyway. That was yesterday. Today, my baby is ten. Why the sign? As I was putting the boys to bed last night H confided to me that he didn't WANT to be ten, he really liked being nine! A family friend had stopped by earlier in the day and gently teased H about getting old, "Going into the double digits big guy!" and etc. H took it in good part at the time but I think the subtext of alerting him to his mortality actually seeped in. Hence H's first moment of existential angst. (They always seem to happen at night don't they? With me, it's about 2 a.m. as a rule.) To help him get through it I made him the sign and took his picture with it. This really seemed to do the trick. H felt better almost immediately, and after I promised to save the sign he went happily off to sleep. Photo therapy? Maybe I'll try it on myself one of those sleepless nights.