Monday, October 15, 2012

15 on the 15th

It's cliched and trite, but I don't know how it happened.  I am certainly not grown up enough to have a fifteen year old son.  

This boy.  I look at his smile and remember wondering what his personality would be like when I nursed him.  I recall wishing time would hurry up so he would grown up a little bit more.  I don't remember it all, but today the memories flooded.  Tucking him into his big boy bed the first time.  Talking walks and him tucking his little chubby fingers into mine.  His thrilled excitement at every single new adventure.  All the days I took for granted. 

Wishing now that I could slow it down of course. 

He's perfect. And not.  He's amazing and talented and aggravating.  He's normal. He's forgetful and an incredible guitar player.  He's exceptional and he's turning into a real grown up man right before my eyes.  



My favorite part? This well-on-his-way-almost-man still willingly hugs me first. 

Happy birthday, stringbain!

 

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