Because 8 is Great. :)

Jordan turned 8 last week, and my mind and heart are full. Because I have an 8 year old (and really, what is THAT all about?), because Jordan was baptized yesterday, because much of my extended family was able to be there, and because I am watching my very first baby turn into a big kid before my very eyes.

The events were all lovely. It was marvelous to see my own offspring willingly make a covenant with his Heavenly Father, and to see that he felt and understood the importance of the promises he was making, and the responsibility he took upon himself with such a covenant. Jordan is a sweet kid. I'm so grateful for his quiet nature, for his desire to be good, and for his consideration for the feelings of those around him. Jordan has a keen spiritual sensitivity that I think will serve him well as the oldest of his siblings, and all his cousins as well.

On a lighter note, Jordan seems, in all of his 8 year old wisdom, to have learned quite a bit about navigating his way around this world, especially when it comes to dealing with the women in his life. Just the other day, on the way home from dinner, Lucy was pestering Jordan about wanting to play with one of his toys when he was at school the following day. Her chattering was incessant, and finally pushed Jordan to the very edge of his tolerance. He turned in his seat and looked back at his sister.

"Lucy," he said calmly. "Whatever you want is fine. JUST STOP TALKING!"

Heh. Perhaps Lucy's learned a thing or two about how men work as well. :)

Later the next morning, when I was driving Jordan to school, I reached over and tousled his hair, commenting that I would have to give him a haircut soon so he didn't look like a shaggy bum. Either that, or his daddy would have to take him to get it cut somewhere else while I was out of town for the weekend. (I was out of town for much of the weekend... and it was awesome. I'll post about it soon)

Jordan looked at me. "Well that sounds like a good idea," he said, implying that a barber actually sounded like a good option.

"You think you would like having someone else cut your hair?" I asked, near wounded by such an indication. He sensed the frailty in my voice, and quickly responded, "Oh, not as much as I like having you cut it."

Hmm. Smooth recovery, huh?

(photo credit goes to my dear friend Destinee, who generously meandered her way through the mountains to come and take some pictures of my family. Her work is marvelous... I'll post more soon.)