max at eight

Being the middle child is hard. I get it (though not as well as Mike does, of course). Especially with brothers who tend to suck up all the oxygen and/or attention at every step. But this year, Max has really come into his own, striking out with his own interests, doing his own thing, and developing a perfect -- and perfectly understated -- dry sense of humor that sneaks right in underneath his bawdier brothers.

For Christmas last year, Max asked for a guitar from Barb and Kevin. They were happy to oblige, and now every Wednesday, Max takes lessons at our local music shop. It's really good for him to have something that is all his own, and I think the one-on-one format of the lessons gives him some needed time where the focus is just on him. He can't play any songs yet (he's working on the fundamentals of positioning and notes and chords), and honestly, it doesn't matter to me if he ever does, because seeing him happy about learning something new, something Liam didn't already learn before he got a chance, is reward enough.

Our Max is quite the little charmer at school. His teacher loves him, and so do his classmates -- I'm pretty sure there isn't a single person he doesn't get along with. At home, of course, that's a different story; here, he doesn't hesitate to mix it up with the others and demand his fair share of everything. ("Fairness" is a big theme around here that I would like to just go away, but that's a different story.) He wishes that he, like Liam, could have his own room, but alas, the limitations of this house just don't make it possible for that to happen.

At dinner the other night, we had something particularly good, and Mike asked the boys how it was possible that they all cleared their plates so quickly (since both of us still had plenty left on ours). Liam and Henry launched into a loud argument about who could eat more/faster, but Max got this very serious look on his face, and looked at Mike and said, very calmly, "Well, you pick up your fork, and you stab it into a piece of food and bring it to your mouth. And then you repeat that about 50 times." Then he gave Mike this perfect little sly look and waited to see if anyone would notice how funny he was. (We did.)

Happy birthday, Max! We hope that the year ahead is filled with fun and laughter. And hopefully someday we can work on getting you your own room...