It's Great to be 8

Or at least Gabriel and Elijah think so. This has been a big month for them. Eight years old is one of the birthdays that we throw a big party for. The boys chose a safari theme and we had many little boys and one girl running around the house. We made binoculars, searched for animals, played pin the points on the compass, did elephant racing and other games. The kids seemed to have a good time and the boys got ridiculously spoiled with presents from their friends.

Of course, eight is a big age for other reasons too. In the state of North Dakota being eight grants you some freedoms like not needing booster seats in the car. As an eight year old you can stay at home, the rec center or the library by yourself for up to a couple of hours. Granting some of these new freedoms is scary, but at least we are getting broken in with the twins who have each other. Eight also means that they are old enough to be baptized in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Both boys decided they wanted to be baptized and passed their interviews with the bishop. On the big day, they were so excited to have both sets of grandparents in town for Thanksgiving, their birthday and their baptism. Things were exciting at the church trying to get ready. The piano was locked (by the way, a locking piano is genius for a house of small boys but maybe less desirable in a church) and there were no medium sized jumpsuits. Luckily, our boys are on the skinny side and fit into the smalls. Before they got dressed, they went to check out the baptismal font. Of course, Gabriel managed to drop his tie tack in the font and at that point it was too deep to reach in and get it without someone getting their clothes wet. Luckily, not everything was crazy. The talks were lovely, the music was nice and the boys did get baptized. I called out "Watch out for the tack!" as they stepped into the font and Gabe got baptized twice because there was an error the first time but in the end it all worked out. I was complimented on "going with the flow" when things weren't perfect. Perfect is nice, but imperfect is more memorable. My little brother, Sam, gave the closing prayer and got me all choked up with his loving words of pride and affection for our boys. Afterward, we served cookies and cupcakes. Everyone was pretty happy.

I made the boys some journals and they both wrote about their experience. As a parent, I hope that they feel loved and guided. I hope that they grow in empathy and love and continue to make good choices, at least most of the time. I love these boys. We can't believe that they are this old but it's so fun that we can play more games with them and discuss good books and watch movies with them that we couldn't before. Watching your kids grow up is bittersweet but over all, it really is great that they are eight.