My first born.
He's 18 today and I think I may need to spend the day in bed with a box of tissues, crying over how quickly the time went.
I mean...SERIOUSLY. He's nearly as old as I was when I had him. HOW CAN THIS BE PEOPLE?!?!?!?!?
How can that little boy who used to reach his pudgy little arms up to me and say, "I wanna hold you me" (sounded more like, "Ina hoed choo me", though...) be a legal adult?
Old enough to vote.
To rent rated R movies.
To buy cigarettes (he better not).
To get married (see above).
People. I need you to do something for me.
Right now...go find your babies, study their faces, smell their sweet breath, hold them in your arms and squeeze them extra tight, because tomorrow? Tomorrow you'll wake up and find that they, too, have suddenly grown up and become adults right before your very eyes.
I hope and pray that I've done right by him. That we've given him a strong foundation and set an example of love and family values. As much as I miss the days when he was little, I am excited to see the places he goes in life.
He's an amazing kid and I am BEYOND proud of him.
Happy Birthday, Pal. I love you to the moon and back!