Today my son turned 12.
It’s pretty daunting to think of having a 12-year-old, although this one is still very much a little boy at heart.
I love how he dotes on his little sister and how his eyes well up when he’s upset and how he still gives me a morning hug when he wakes up.
I love that he doesn’t mind hanging out with his parents and how excited he gets when he wants to tell us about a recent event.
I love his competitive spirit and his tender heart and how I can imagine what my husband was like as a little boy when I look at my son.
Sometimes at the oddest moments, I get a glimpse of the little boy that I once knew, and my heart breaks just a little at those days lost forever.
He’s on the brink of adolescence, and yet somehow I know that it’s going to be okay. I’m looking forward to the teenage years and seeing the young man he’s going to become.
I like how he gets my humor and that we share the same taste in music and I treasure that delicate camaraderie that exists between mothers and sons. I pray that we never lose our bond, even as he spreads his wings and one day ventures into a life of his own.
I’m proud of you, baby. Happy Birthday, Little D!