There's this boy who stole my heart...
He's nine today. Almost a decade. Halfway to eighteen. (Oh! My heart!) The years are going by much too quickly.
It seems that only yesterday we were fumbling through the newborn days, trying to figure each other out.
I hope that when he looks back on these early years, he remembers them as being full of joy and love. Because that's certainly what he has provided in my life.
He's still my baby. He still craves hugs, still wants an extra "I love you" at bedtime, still snuggles in when I want to nuzzle his head. He is still vulnerable enough to cry when he needs to, and although he's getting taller and heavier, my arms and lap are still Enough to accommodate him. To comfort him. To make it all better.
But he is growing! I've been so fortunate to be a part of his journey. He's a thoughtful person, kind and empathetic. He's patient, gentle, and remarkably funny.
He has inherited (nature or nurture?) my tendencies toward perfectionism (sigh), but he also has a capacity to forgive and move on that amazes me.
Happy Birthday, T! Thank you for making me into a mother. I love you to infinity and beyond.