12. Twelve. That’s such a big number to type. Normally I try to have these things written days in advance, but this year I just didn’t have the heart to sit down and contemplate that you are turning twelve. That’s just shy of a teenager! My son is almost a teenager. My name is Deborah. And I’m in denial.
As you get older I try to limit how personal I get on the blog about you, so this year and the years coming may be briefer than they’ve been in the past. However I so desperately want to record this time in your life, and hold on to every time you hug me, each time you ask to climb in bed for a snuggle, each time you grab my hand as we walk. I can’t help but write a little bit about who you are and who you are becoming.
You are my biggest fan at the moment. You can’t get enough time with me and you gladly will fight for the spot closest to me. And I love it. I somehow feel like it’s fleeting, so I am enjoying each moment. You are rocking middle school with such poise and dignity. Such confidence and respect. Each and every teacher has fallen in love with you and it is evident every time I talk with them. They love your passion for learning, your ability to have in depth conversations about literature and science.
Playing guitar has been such a wonderful outlet for you. You play both acoustic and electric and I love to hear it. Some mornings it’s the first thing I hear as I open my eyes and the sounds slowly make their way up the staircase into my room.
You are a really good judge of character. I have such implicit trust in your judgement of situations, which I know is going to change as soon as your frontal lobe breaks. Which it will :) And probably soon ;) But for the time being everyone can count on you for making wise choices. And I appreciate that. I don’t take that for granted, not for a single day.
This stage is one of my favorites that you are in at the moment because we get to enjoy each other’s company, go to movies together, read the same books. You’ve become a friend and I love to be with you. You are still smaller than me thank goodness, so I can still beat you in wrestling, but I fear those days may be fleeting too.
You are a gift to this family. Your wit. Your humor. Your laugh. You are kind and thoughtful. I wonder some days how we got so fortunate to call you ours. Twelve years ago today I became a mother and was introduced to this big, beautiful 8 pounds 13 ounces of beauty and I was so blessed to call you ‘son’. You weren’t ‘supposed’ to arrive for another 2 weeks but you had another plan, you knew we couldn’t live a single day more without you in our lives. And...you were right.