Thirteen

The talk here for the last few days, from me anyway, has been what I was doing thirteen years ago. There was Thanksgiving with my parents and my inlaws because Thanksgiving was my due date. We were on Baby Watch.

By Saturday afternoon I was getting a little stir crazy. I had been starting to have contractions but not close enough or regular enough to go to the hospital. I needed to get out so my mom and I went to do some shopping. After walking through a couple of stores and picking up a few things we were at the check out stand. The cashier was a young boy-16 maybe?- and, of course, I began having the largest contraction of the afternoon. I proceeded to lean on the counter and rock back and forth. The poor kid was horrified!

About 18 hours later I was holding my boy. My sweet, angel boy.

This boy is the one that wouldn't sleep anywhere but in my arms or in my bed. He scared me to death when he wouldn't nurse well. This one mastered the tantrum quite early.

He stole his sister's heart, although not on the first day. She took a little longer to warm up but when she did she couldn't get enough of being a big sister.

Thirteen is fearless, brave. Thirteen is a musician, naturally talented. Thirteen is straight As and a compassionate, loving heart. Thirteen is thoughtful. Thirteen is kind. Thirteen is passionate.

I know kids turn thirteen every day, but not mine. This is mine. My baby. My boy. And thirteen looks good on you.

I love you! I hope that thirteen is all you hope it will be!