One full decade ago:

I became a mother, to a son.
The first words the Doctor spoke upon your arrival, "He's here! He is so long and skinny!!" You were, still are and always will be... so long and skinny! And... you were most definitely Here. My first child.
Hours later, we were alone. Sharing our first of many, snuggle mornings. I repeatedly whispered, "I love you. I'm so happy to meet you... I'm your mom." I am sure you did not require my introduction but I needed to hear the words, "I'm your mom."
This morning, I've officially been a mother for ten years. TEN YEARS?!! When did that happened? Wasn't I just holding you? Were we not just snuggled tight, pressed heart to heart? I swear, I was just touching your baby soft hair, to my cheek.


It is remarkable, how people think they understand 'love'. Believe they've experienced 'love'. They love their parents, friends, they have been coupled and even married. A person will throw around an "I love you" without abandon. Then, that person becomes a parent. And their heart, literally blooms.
It grows. It physically aches, from the immediate bloat of new Heart Departments... labeled: Protection, Complete Preservation, Devotion and Hug-ation. A new parent, creates a mental list, Thousands of Things 'they' will do better, than any parent before. Insuring their baby, will flourish without complication.
After ten years, I am already over whelmed with regrets and 'I shouldas'. He was the 'first' for all of us. I'm sure we tripped a few times. I coulda done more.
I shoulda hugged more. I shoulda given more vitamins.
I shoulda held my cool. I shoulda taken more pictures.
I shoulda just really watched him more. Just sat in the yard and soaked up every detail of his chubby cheeks and toddler waddle. Somebody, shoulda told me it would go by SO DARN FAST! Ten years?
Are you kidding me?!




I suppose, I've done something right because The Kid is literally Amazing. His brain is a labyrinth of information. Details, intertwined with facts, sprinkled with interesting quotations and anomalies. While there is certainly occasion the well of intelligence feels plenty deep enough, I... eyes-squeezed-shut pray, his mind will only continue to impress.

The Kid is fiercely loyal. A devoted and sensitive friend. He desires the acceptance of his peers, as well as his adult companions. Often, his intelligence mistakenly convinces others, he is more mature than children his age and yet... he is sweetly and naively innocent. Possibly because of an overly protective and hovering mother, though I suspect he is an inviting soul, desperately wanting to believe people are inherently good. An admirable trait, which unfortunately scares the heck out of me.



The Kid is a most frustrating closet athlete. The raw ability, lays nearly completely dormant. Preferring a good book, to a dribbling drill or an afternoon at the batting cages. Encouraging his father to frequently deep sigh, followed by an exasperated forehead rub.

The Kid is the quintessential Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, of big brothers. Igniting from me, a firestorm of "Get away from your little sisters!!" or a smile, as he reads their favorite books. He secretly (no secret, he says it all the time) prefers a little Coco. Though, I wonder if him and Tink will eventually have more in common.

Above all: The Kid is an affectionate and devoted grandchild. An excitable and easily impressed nephew. A grateful and smiley cousin. And The Very Best Son we Have (as long as you don't wake him too early, tell him to put away his clothes, ask him to pick up his room or generally forget he Runs The Show...)



To my son:
As always, on Thanksgiving I am most Thankful for your arrival. Thank-you, for changing my entire world. Your birthday, is the date which defines the first and second halves of my life. Your deep, thinking brown eyes are the mirror to myself. Ten years ago, you gifted me the most important role of my lifetime. I pray, I have given you, even a fraction of the knowledge, strength and meaning you have given to my growth as a person. You were my 'starter kid'.
My first ten little fingers and ten little toes.
I could never express my gratitude, that you chose to love me. You will forever be, my favorite dance partner. Words simply can not describe.
Happy Birthday 10th, son.
Despite my pleas, you continue to have birthdays... and you just may age too big for my lap, too heavy to dance sleepily within my arms and too tall to hide safely in my shadow... but you will never, become too old for me to hold you tightly inside my heart.