Happy Birthday, Mr. President

*For those of you keeping track...this is my 100th post! (Is that all?!? It seems like she never shuts up!) I will follow blogging tradition on my next post with 101 things about me...you won't want to miss.


But today....Today is a very special day. It's the day I fell in love. Seven years ago today, my little boy, The President was born. And I became somebody's mommy. It's so funny to me now that I don't even think about being a mom anymore...it's just totally who I am, down to the very core of my soul. But back then, I did not know jack about being somebody's mom. All I knew was that I was going to hold him, and kiss him, and totally love him to pieces, and do the best job I could. When he was a teeny little bundle of softness, wrapped in layers of dreft-scented yumminess, there wasn't too much I could do to screw him up.

I mean, there was the one time...(the President loves for me to tell this story)...when he was a couple of months old that I got him out of the baby bathtub, took him over to the changing table & slathered Johnson's vapor rub all over his butt instead of Desitin. I ran right back over to the tub & dunked his little hiney in there over & over while he screamed his head off. When I stopped crying, I realized that I would probably someday make far worse mistakes where he's concerned. And I have.

After those first tedious, uncertain months, you start to let your guard down. You become more comfortable with the whole "I'm a mom" thing. Seven years later, I can hardly remember a time when I wasn't somebody's mom. It's gotten easier...and it's gotten harder.

I can barely remember his baby-hood. I mean, it only lasted like one day...The day he started kindergarten, I thought I would never recover. I had nausea and chest pains for weeks leading up to that day. But, I did recover, and I love watching him learn and grow. So, while he is now a much more independent, self-sufficient little guy...he is also facing new challenges. When he is frustrated or unhappy, my heart aches. When I am called upon to make a decision for his future, I am afraid that I won't make the best choice.


The things he does and says never fail to amaze me. I see little pieces of myself in his sassy attitude, or his righteous indignation when things don't happen exactly when and how he thinks they should. I see my dad in his serious scowl, and his quick wit. He is my husband when he is kind and patient and snuggly.

He is the best of all of us...and he is an amazing little person. We've often said he was born a 40 year old man, he has such a grown-up perspective. But to me, he will always be my baby. Happy Birthday, Mr. President! I love you!