John

He's almost nine.

His hair is still red. He has freckles, though not a ton. He's losing baby teeth regularly. He is not tall.

He loves to play sports--any and all--with the neighbor kids. They play baseball, football, basketball (usually Knockout), street hockey, and kickball. On the neighbors' trampoline they play Gaga. These are just the games and sports that I know about. He loves them all.

He does his homework in the school gym after school each day while they are waiting for their bus to arrive to take them home.

He loves books and he loves electronic games, just like Charles does, but lately he wants to play sports-type games more than fantasy world games.

He does things sometimes because he notices that it would helpful to me. He observes my situation and my feelings and wants to help me based on what he's observed. I don't know how to say this, I guess. He's thoughtful.

He doesn't have quite the sweet tooth my other kids have. But he would much rather be hungry than eat something he doesn't like. Lately when he makes his lunch to take to school, he makes himself a peanut butter and banana sandwich.

This picture is so John.

He is himself. He is silly and goofy. He likes to make everyone laugh. But his teacher at school says he is mature and shows leadership. I can see that.

He likes to dance to 80s music.

John feels so bad when he makes a mistake or does wrong. Sometimes I have to help him let it go and move forward.