.12.

I still remember the very first time that I saw him.
June 19th, 2:47 pm.
When the nurse handed him over to me, I was in awe. I guess I expected him to look exactly like his brother did when he was born. But he looked completely different. Creamy white skin. Big ears, one folded over, pressed against his head. Tiny, squinted eyes, perfect little lips.
I had worried that I’d not have enough love to give to a second child. I loved my first baby so much, I couldn’t imagine giving that love to another child. I think most mother’s worry about that and I certainly was no different.
That fear melted the minute I laid eyes on him.

Corny as it may sound, I knew in the first few weeks of his life I knew there was something incredibly special and wonderful about my son.
He had the most amazing personality. And Oh! how he loved loved loved his Mama. As a baby, he could grab my face and give me slobbery wet kisses. As a toddler, he would climb up on my lap, hold my face in his hands and say things like “I just wuv you so much my booyeeful mommy!” And if anyone dared to be mean to me, he would tell them where they could shove it. Like the one time my brother was teasing me at dinner. E was only 3 years old. We were out to dinner with the family. My brother kept teasing me saying things like “What about that what time you did *insert mocking words.*” E had had enough. He stood up, walked over to my brother and said “HEY, WHAT ABOUT YOUR BUTT?!”

E always loved to spend time with me. He was my little shadow and man, was he ever a joy to have around. He could be difficult– like, how he refused to wear plain t-shirts because “THEY ARE SO DUMB AND UGLY!” (when he was THREE.) but he could also be the sweetest, kindest, most considerate little person. I always knew where I stood with him. If he was mad, he would cross his precious little arms and say “I’m SO mad’tchu, Mommy!” Then, 5 minutes later, he’d wrap his arms around my legs and tell me how much he loved me and how I was the best mommy in the whole wide world.

Yesterday, that adorable little boy turned 12 years old. And even though he’s older, not much has changed. Sure, he’s older and more mature, but he’s still that same tenderhearted boy at heart. He still lets me know when he’s upset, but is always quick to tell me how much he loves me. He can hurt me deeply when he’s angry at me, but can melt my heart with his kindness.

Hard to believe it’s been 12 years since I first laid eyes on him. It takes my breath away every time he talks about how much he’s looking forward to starting junior high in August.
Junior high.
I didn’t post this yesterday because I’ve had the hardest time writing this post. Not because I don’t love him, but because he’s the most wonderful, unique, hilarious child in the world and I sob like a baby when I think of how wonderful our lives have been since he came along.
Happy Birthday, beautiful boy. Thank you for making me laugh so hard that it hurts on a daily basis. I love love love you.

What he looked like the morning he turned 12.