Today, my son, my first-born, the sweet boy who made me a mom, turns 13.

A teenager.
A young man.

We know our kids are going to grow up, but when you're in the throws of newborn/toddler/grade school chaos, that seems like such a distant concept. Everyday, someone says, 'Treasure the time, because you'll blink and they'll be gone!' Yet the notion that time flies somehow doesn't apply in those early years. Even though there are days when you wish time would fly a little faster.

Motherhood is one-day-at-a-time for me...some days shine, others are a struggle. And yet somehow, I've managed to put 4,745 of those days together (but who's counting, right?!). Not all the days have been good, and certainly not easy, but so worth every single second. Raising this happy boy has brought me more joy than I thought possible, and given me more love than I knew my heart could hold.

I am so grateful he knew one of the most important men in my life, and there was never a more proud great-grandfather! He really is as sweet as he looks, with a soft heart and a sharp mind.





Turns out, it's true when people say, 'The days are long, but the years are short.' Now I'm acutely aware of how fast time is flying, and desperately want to slow it down. His time left in our home is dwindling, and that makes me anxious to think about. Funny how we spend the first years desperate for them to grow up, and the later years praying they never leave.

Happy, happy birthday my precious son! You are loved and adored...and we are so proud of the compassionate, thoughtful, smart, giving, faithful young man, son and brother you have become!

*Thank you for the personal indulgence today! We'll resume glue-gunning soon.*


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