Happy 9th Birthday, Sam

Well, here we are on the 9th anniversary of the day of Sam’s birth. Not quite a decade, but he’s getting there. 

Our only kid to visit the emergency room—not once, but twice. Recall the chin incident of 2019.

*knocking on wood, of course*

But now, at nine years old, Sam is officially halfway to legal adulthood. Whatever that means. 

I read a quote by Marianne Richmond just yesterday: 

“If I could keep you little

I’d keep you close to me

But then I’d miss you growing 

Into who you are meant to me”

I actually teared up reading that to Sam as I was preparing his birthday dinner.

Because I don’t exactly know how, but somehow that rings truer of Sam than any of the other three kids. What is Sam, if not unconventional? Who is he meant to be?

According to my mother-in-law, he’s a second-born living among first-borns.

Which is true, of course, and I do think birth order plays a big role in Sam’s Samness.

He was born into my type-A neuroticism, Tighe’s bullying lectures, and Nate’s incessant talking and age-appropriate egomania. 

So Sam started to forge his own identity, almost covertly. 

Quirky. Idiosyncratic. Funny, with impeccable comedic timing. Selectively anti-social. And more than anything, stubborn. 

I liken Sam to Poland, a nation squeezed in between Germany and Mother Russia, and clutching his own traits and peculiarities with a white knuckle grip. Despite centuries of oppressive rule by the countries (and cultures) that flanked it, Poland stood strong. In the face of Eastern Orthodox Christianity and Lutheran Protestantism, Poland became one of the most Catholic countries in the world. Poles claim to have invented vodka, and they’re very insistent that they’re not part of Eastern Europe—they’re the eastern part of Central Europe.

Likewise, in the face of our bossy, domineering situations, Sam has grown into one of the smart-assiest 9 year-olds the world has ever seen. 

And though Poland never developed into a global superpower, the strength of their traditions, religion, and culture has served them well.

Though Sam’s personal culture is still developing, it’s serving him well. People are fascinated by him, and Tighe and I, along with all three of his siblings, can’t wait to see what he does or says next. Kinda like Poland.

For his birthday dessert, he requested cupcakes. Without icing. For his birthday treat to share at school, he insisted on jars of icing for each person.

He stains pretty much all his clothing with art projects, ice sculptures, eating habits, and outdoor endeavors. 

His uniform pants pockets are crammed with candy wrappers. Always.

He wears nail polish sometimes. 

He likes to hide in impossibly tight spaces. 

Somehow, he has an entire ream’s worth of paper crumbled at the bottom of his backpack.

He’s fiercely loyal to his friends, and his friends are loyal in return.

Ever since he first started solid foods as a baby, he claps his hands every time he takes a satisfying bite.

He likes to snuggle.

He never does his homework.

He soaks just about everything in hot sauce. The spicier, the better.

From March 2021 until October 2022, he sported a mullet. With pride. Though it was a clear violation of his school’s uniform policy—boys’ hair cannot touch the back of the shirt collar—he evaded capture for more than a year and a half. Most of the faculty seemed amused by it. 

He rotates the same three or four kelly green Visitation Football t-shirts, each with a different number on the back. 

He only leaves the house voluntarily to shop for Lego sets at Target or to go to one of his beloved friend’s houses. Otherwise, convincing him to go anywhere is like convincing Lou to put down a knife or other equally dangerous item.

Last week at the end of mass, when the priest made an announcement about a meeting for confirmation sponsors, Sam cheered loudly. And unexpectedly. “Whooo!” *And then three audible claps.* The guy behind us nearly busted a gut laughing.

He’s obsessed with Legos. Obsessed. He told me once that his ideal day would be completing a never ending series of Lego sets. As soon as he finishes one, the next is ready and waiting.

He once played an entire 60 minute basketball practice running in reverse. As in, backwards. 

He was a Taki for Halloween last year. And this year, he was a third grade boy.

He only reads non-fiction. National Geographic is a particular favorite.

I bought trick candles for his birthday cupcakes, but almost as though Sam knew that, as his the big day approached, he switched his dessert request to milkshakes. Hmm, the joke was on me. Can’t put candles, trick or otherwise, in milkshakes. Well played, Sam. 

He hates talking on the phone. On his birthday, he took, reluctantly, five consecutive phone calls from various family members. And it nearly killed him. At one point, I overheard Tighe’s dad say to him, “We had snow here today, but it didn’t stick to the ground.” Sam replied, flatly, “Yeah, that happens sometimes.”

Whatever he decides to do and whoever he decides to be, he’ll be as strong-willed, tenacious, relentless, and determined as Poland.