Thirteen years ago today I gave birth to my first child.
Knowing he was going to be a boy, blue was the dominating color in the nursery, new dresser and closets of his room.
The glider-rocker awaited many days and nights of bonding.
The crib was oblivious that it wouldn't see much action until 1.5 years later.
Our bed had no idea it was made for 3.
The recliner was about to embark on many midnight mother-son snuggles.
Our stove top would soon find out how long it took to boil bottle nipples.
The walls in our house were about to echo newborn cries.
Our hearts were ready to be filled with love we never knew existed.
----Today I'm am overwhelmed how fast the time has gone. I have a beautiful, super-smart, almost-as-tall-as-I-am son who I couldn't be more proud of. I look through scrapbooks of the memories of his first birthday, his first tooth, his first steps, his first day of school, his first best friend and weep a little.
A good healthy, love-filled weep.
Not only are his birthdays filled with presents, friends, slumber parties, cake, pizza, and all about him...
...they are a little about me too.
My memories, my aging, my growing up along side of him. While I'm sure he loves getting older, I struggle to stop time and just hold on to these moments a little longer. When we can snuggle on the couch, or share a laugh.
Because the next thirteen years will be here before you know it.
High school. College. Marriage?!?
I can't go there.
For now, we celebrate his birthday with a good old-fashioned family dinner.
Next weekend, we'll eat pizza, cake, go mini-golfing and see a movie with his friends.
I love you my wonderful young man!