Oh, man. 9 is a great age. 9 is happy and thoughtful and sweet and funny and takes itself very seriously. I am really glad to have two more 9's waiting in the wings, but I have to say, Jack wears it particularly well.
Because we are terrible parents, we tried to talk him out of being in Cub Scouts, especially with the addition of rec hockey to his life. But, alas, he would not budge. And, really, I guess he shouldn't have budged because look how happy and careful he is making his Pinewood Derby car:
Jack is a terrific kid, and I wish I had more time to spend with just him. When Harry has a late hockey practice and the other kids have gone to bed, Jack and I have so much fun watching Netflix-- we have the same interest in TV from The Good Place to Bob's Burgers to Zumbo's Just Desserts. He also loves to cook and is getting really good at it. Part of that is Jack being wonderful and part of it is 9's eagerness to please.
Moms in the little-kid trenches, get excited because 9 is coming to you, and it's lovely.