you say it's your birthday
My baby turns ten today. Ten. That's two numbers, no longer single digits, no longer little. Yet ten is such an odd age. Too big to admit you still watch Pokemon, too small to be taken seriously by the skateboarding teens down the block. DJ flits between the two, one minute asserting his independence by refusing to hold my hand when we cross the street and the next crying for me to keep the light on his room because he just saw a scary commercial.
The kid is terrified of the clown from It yet fearlessly faces down an opponent twice his size sliding into third base. He crouches, blocks the plate, puts his shoulders down and his chest out and that runner is going nowhere. And then we get home and he runs from my uncle's Jack Russell terrier as if Cujo were after him.
DJ is a bit of an enigma. Just when you think you have him figured out, he pulls another trick out of his pocket and leaves you scratching your head. He's at once incredibly cocky, talking like Snoop Dogg and all up in your face with his ego and then so unsure of himself that won't try out for the school play out of fear of failure.
He's sweet and kind and generous to a fault, but he is also a ten year old boy, which means he is antagonistic, bold and a huge pain in the ass at times, especially to his older sister.
He wants to be a baseball player, but he figures he could always be a scientist as a backup, in case he gets an injury early in his career. And if the scientist thing doesn't pan out, there's always rap stardom waiting for him. He has it all figured out.
I believe - and of course, I am his mother so I would say this - that he can be any of the things he wants to be. He is determined and resourceful and focused on his goals.
Happy birthday, DJ. One year old, one year wiser, one more year filled with great stories to tell your future girlfriends.
Favorite DJ stories