When he was born, I knew that as soon as I blinked, he would be turning a year old. So I resolved not to blink so I wouldn’t miss a minute. As he grew (much too fast) in that first year, I would tell myself, “But he’s NOT one yet. One is big. He’ll be walking and talking by then. At least he’s not one!
When he was one, and (almost) walking and mostly talking, I told myself, “Well, he may be one, but he’s NOT three. Three is big. He’ll be out of diapers and on his way to preschool by then. At least he’s not three!
When he was three and (nearly) out of diapers and having fun in preschool, “Well, maybe he’s three, but he’s NOT five. Five is big. He’ll be heading out into the world towards Kindergarten (without me!) by then. At least he’s not five!
When he was five and going to Kindergarten (crying every day those first two weeks!), I told myself, “Well, he may be five but he’s NOT ten. Ten is big. Double digits! He’ll be getting ready for middle school and probably thinking about getting a job and his own apartment. At least he’s not ten!
Today he is nine. And all I have to say is….Oh. My. Goodness! Only one more year until he is ten!
This morning, the boy said, “Thanks for helping me make it through my year of being eight, Mom.” I told him I couldn’t wait to see what his year of being nine will hold. Probably some good times, some challenging times and (living with this kid) many hilarious times.
Happy Birthday to the boy who saved me from myself. I wasn’t quite sure where I was headed in this life, but that all changed on the day I met you. My life before you was black and white, like in the Wizard of Oz before the color came on. Not a bad life, but nothing compared to my life with you. You are simply the best part of me.
“I love my life!”, said the red-headed boy in the year he was eight- I hope he says that a lot in the year he is nine.