Happy Birthday Dearest Baby Boy.

Ten years ago today I gave birth to my son.

I have been blessed. He is hazel eyed, double dimpled, and he is well, gorgeous. He is also kind, smart and has a good loving heart.

I may yell at him for not doing homework. I may wonder how the hell one kid can make such a mess and I may spend way too much time wondering how to get him to do the things I need him too, but that’s okay. That’s him.

It’s also okay because I know I will do anything to make him happy. I will also do everything I can to ensure he becomes the amazing man I know he is going to be.

When my baby boy was first put in my arms ten years ago, I looked at the miracle I was holding and realized that when I talked about having another child, maybe even having a boy, I didn’t mean I wanted any boy. I wanted him. Just him. Perfect him.

So, Robs – Happy Birthday.

I love you more then you will ever know.   

But if you could stop growing up so fast, that would be nice.

And if you could stop doing things to drive me freaking insane, that would be good too.

What? This can’t all be mushy, he’s still my boy – and he’d kill me. Mush is only allowed in private. So, the rest of you? Pretend you never saw this.

And Robs? High five buddy! You now have an entire year until your Mother goes off on the deep end again.

Happy Birthday Robbie. I love you.

2 thoughts on “Happy Birthday Dearest Baby Boy.

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