Once upon a time…oh I shall not bore you with the once upon a time, the story of your birth and about that magical Thanksgiving.
Instead, I speak this day of this year, this birthday. This past year you grew serious facial hair and that baby fuzz I have encouraged you to shave for a couple of years has turned into a pretty serious amount of beard. You grew several inches–which you claim not to like. You got an alphabet soup that just provided letters that might have just as well spelled your name. It mattered and it matters not. I remember thinking as we sat through the meeting that oh, that is just you. Shrug. Your quirks challenge us all and we need to work around and with some but they make you you.
I couldn’t imagine being a mom to a boy–but now that I am–I wondered what all the worry was about. You are the very best son I could have ever given birth to, the perfect son for me.
This year you joined Facebook and we got a sneak peek into your more social side. You’ve enjoyed it in spite of yourself. We have enjoyed it immensely, more snark, more you.
Most surprising this year–you loved your birthday gifts. Really loved them, the metronome lamp from Momal, the Gilmore Girls missing season, shirts and stickers, and the Manga panel I sewed for you. Your reaction was so incredible and intense the entire family was unprepared. The ‘scripted’ boy we know did something unexpected and stunning. I may not stop smiling for a week, a month, a year. Yes, you are that special, but then you know that.
Tomorrow we will have your favorite foods of the year-Cheese Nip Chicken, Eggs Benedict. I will throw in some veggies but those were your requests. Typical of you–no fancy outings or meals; at least not here at the Flamingo House/Prairie Dog House. Oh wait, we do have that one special outing on Saturday.
Next birthday is a big one in typical spans of years, but this year–one of my 17 favorites with you. Near the top likely.
None of this sounds quite right for your birthday post. I blame the post-turkey fuzziness. I may edit but I may not. You are loved and you know that.