I’ve developed a habit of giving each stage of my kids’ lives a nickname. We’ve all heard of the terrible twos, the troublesome threes, and the fierce fours. Let’s not forget the frustrating fives (seriously, when will they outgrow this?), the tumultuous sixes (which I’ve experienced with my determined six-year-old twin boys), and now, my newfound favorite: the sociable and sensitive sevens.
My oldest son perfectly embodies the essence of a typical 7-year-old. He’s a delightful mix of humor, bravery, sass, independence, strong-will, kindness, and a bit of mischief—all wrapped up in one endearing package. I was ready for the usual parenting challenges: mediating fights, negotiating screen time, and struggling to convince him to eat his veggies, which often felt like diplomatic negotiations at the UN.
What took me by surprise, though, was how intelligent and mature he’s become—and how willing he is to share that with me. He engages with strangers during our outings, shares his thoughts, and shows respect for those who serve us. At times, he gets so engrossed in the world around him that he brushes off being sent to his room for calling his brothers names.
Lately, he’s been following the election cycle closely, absorbing information on his own and forming his own opinions. One evening, when I mentioned wanting to volunteer for a campaign, he excitedly asked if he could join me. He willingly gave up his weekend to canvass door-to-door, eager to learn about civics in the most practical way possible—right in the thick of it, rather than from a textbook.
Mornings after political debates are a treat, filled with his enthusiastic recaps and my husband chuckling at how spot-on our son is with his observations. He’s eager to attend a rally with us next weekend, but when we told him it wasn’t possible, he took it in stride: “Okay, but the babysitter will let me watch it on TV, right?”
He’s seen the charitable acts my partner and I have engaged in over the years, whether it’s volunteering our time or providing a meal to someone in need. Recently, he filled out a donation envelope for a charity we support, and my husband is helping him write the check. Just the other day, after an event, he approached a hungry man on the street and emptied his pockets of change. We later discussed his generous choice and how it could help that man find a meal.
That night, my 7-year-old left me with one of the most poignant truths I’ve ever heard from a child: “Mom, I don’t have to make a difference for everyone, just someone.”
The following day, his grandmother gifted him a small bill, encouraging him to keep some for himself and treat himself.
As I tucked him into bed after our vacation, I asked what his favorite moment was. He excitedly recounted seeing the Liberty Bell, because “it’s made of Liberty,” followed by seeing Independence Hall, where “the Declaration of Independence was signed, and we became a country.” The highlight? An MLB game, of course.
As parents, we often get wrapped up in our children’s vibrant personalities, imagining their future careers. I have no doubt this little activist has a bright future ahead, making a difference for many, as he has already made a significant impact on me.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a battle over missing Lego pieces to mediate.
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In summary, age 7 is proving to be an exciting time filled with growth, curiosity, and unexpected insights for both my son and me.