Ten years with Nic feels like 10 years.
It's possible that this kid packs so much intensity into his being that 10 years could possibly feel like 50. In any case, Nic the 10-year-old boy simply is. I experience little to no awe that he is already 10.
I can't say the same about G. My quiet little guy grows in the shadow of his brother in more ways than one. So when I arrived at school one afternoon to take Nic to a doctor appointment, the little boy who beelined out of gym into my arms (he saw big brother in the hall, then heard my voice) took me aback.
I saw G running toward me and took him in as a stranger might; gangly, long and loose-limbed cherub with a mop of hazelnut hair and incandescent smile galloping full bore. And I stood awestruck--and a little sad--that my baby is going to be 7 this year, and I feel like I blinked and missed it.
He needs more of me than he's been getting.