Every stage of my children’s growth deserves its own nickname. We all recognize the infamous terrible twos, the tumultuous threes, and the fierce fours. Then there are the flummoxing fives (seriously, when will this end?), the chaotic sixes (especially with my newly minted 6-year-old twin boys), and now, my new favorite: the sociable and sensitive sevens.
My eldest son embodies every characteristic of a typical 7-year-old. He is hilarious, adventurous, cheeky, independent, strong-willed, compassionate, and a bit of a goof—wrapped up in one endearing package. I mentally prepared myself for the usual challenges: breaking up squabbles, haggling over screen time, and negotiating vegetable consumption, which often felt like a diplomatic summit.
What I didn’t anticipate was his remarkable intelligence and maturity blossoming right before my eyes. He engages with strangers openly, shares his opinions, and shows genuine respect for service workers. Rather than sulking about being sent to his room for misbehavior, he dives into the world around him, eager to learn.
He has been avidly following the election cycle, watching news stories on his own, and forming his own opinions. When I mentioned wanting to volunteer for a campaign, he leaped at the chance to join me. He willingly sacrificed weekend time to help canvass neighborhoods, embracing the opportunity to understand civics through real-life experience rather than merely reading about it.
Mornings after political debates are filled with his insightful summaries of the previous night, often accompanied by my husband’s laughter when he realizes our son has accurately captured the essence of the discussions. My son is eager to attend a rally with us this weekend, and when we told him it wasn’t possible, he took it in stride, asking, “The babysitter will let me watch it on TV, right?”
He’s observed the charitable actions my partner and I have taken over the years, whether it’s volunteering our time, buying a meal for someone in need, or sharing our leftovers with those less fortunate. Recently, he filled out a donation envelope for a charity we support, and my partner is guiding him as he writes the check.
After an event, he approached a man in need and gave him all the change from his pockets. We spent time discussing his decision and how it could make a difference for the man. That evening, he shared a profound thought: “Mom, I don’t have to make a difference for everyone, just someone.”
The next day, his grandmother gifted him some money and encouraged him to save a portion for himself.
As I tucked him into bed after our vacation, I asked about his favorite memory from the trip. He enthusiastically recounted his visit to the Liberty Bell, explaining, “It’s made of Liberty.” He also cherished seeing Independence Hall, where the Declaration of Independence was signed, and, of course, attending an MLB game.
As parents, we often get swept up in our children’s vibrant personalities and speculate about their future careers. I have no doubt that this young activist has a bright path ahead, one where he will undoubtedly make a significant impact—he’s already changed my life for the better.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to mediate a dispute over some missing LEGO pieces.
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In summary, age 7 has offered me not only joy but also a deeper understanding of my son’s growing awareness and compassion for the world around him. His thirst for knowledge and desire to make a difference is inspiring, and I can’t wait to see where this journey takes him.