The first time I met him he was a grain of rice.
A grain of rice with a heartbeat.
It was the most beautiful and magical thing I have ever seen. Ever will see.
And now he’s this.
This gorgeous kid. With a beautiful heart. And just enough orneriness to suite him.
And soon enough he’ll not look like a boy….but a man.
He and I share a lot of likenesses. Including our birthdays. Right next to one another, and I have always loved it. Because this boy, that looks like me, talks like me, thinks like me…. is the only one to know what my heart sounds like on the inside. And I’m protective of these younger birthdays, holding them tight, because there are only a few.
His age, not mine… is the one that affects me. Every year I have to let the grip loosen a little. And I will. And I do. But it isn’t easy. And I always cry. I always will. Because I can. Because I’m the mom. This 12th year seemed harder than I thought it was going to be. Maybe because he’s on the cusp of being a real teenager, not just an 8 year old posing as one. I’m not sure.
We celebrated all day. We celebrated ALLLLLL day from sun up to sun down…. just as I believe you should celebrate your birthday. No matter the age.
Cheers to a dozen years my big little Dino Dude.
I love you.