My silly, charming, talkative, goofy, dorky, too smart for his own good, freakishly tall, quick-witted punk, who’s about to get braces, is 12.
When I gave birth to this giant, he was almost 10 pounds! He was huge, compared to all the other teeny-tiny precious babies in the newborn ward, at the hospital.
When family members of other new moms looked through the window at all the newborns, their eyes could not help but be drawn to the gigantic baby sitting up, eating solid food.
Okay…maybe he wasn’t already sitting up.
I tend to exaggerate, sometimes.
Suffice it to say, it looked like we brought him back to the hospital for a visit.
Even, now, at 12, he attracts the attention of others…
He’s unusually tall for his age.
He’s overly goofy and animated.
Did I mention goofy?
But, my eyes are drawn to him for other reasons.
I see more than his contagious smile or his tall body that hasn’t quite grown into itself, yet.
I see a tender and compassionate heart.
I see a keen sense of humor.
I see a desire to do what’s right, sometimes missing the mark, but usually willing to make it right.
I see great potential.
But, I’m kind of biased, you know.
Don’t wait to make your son a great man – make him a great boy. ~Author Unknown
I see a great boy.
Happy birthday, son!
I love you.
…and I’m proud to be your mother.