In the few days following his birth I would hold him amazed that this little baby was given to me to love, take care of, and to call my son. Then with a little bit of humor I often wondered when his mother was going to come get him. Could I possible be this little boy's mother? Wow, I was a Mom. The emotion was conflicting and overwhelming. Yet my heart was OVER FLOWING with an amazing new love.
He's no longer 8 pounds. The eyes are more of a blue-green. His skin is more often dirty than pink. (Particularly after a good game of baseball.) But he is still a beautiful bundle of joy and love.
"A boy is trust with dirt on it's face, beauty with a cut on it's finger, wisdom with bubble gum in it's hair, and the hope of the future with a frog in it's pocket." - Author unknown
His listening is impeccable, unless he is told to do something he doesn't necessarily want to do. He's manners are outstanding, except for the whole napkin in your lap, elbows off the table thing. His ambition is rock-solid, unless he finds it more comfortable to stand behind Mom's legs while he builds up some courage.
Oh how I love him. I love his older half-brother, 15 years old. I love his younger brother, 4 years old. *E* is special, like each of his brothers in their own way. He made me a mom. He has grown with me. He is learning to be an outstanding-character (with grass stained knees) and I am learning to be a mother that praises, disciplines, hugs, gives-space, keeps them nourished and let's them learn to make their own healthy-decisions. Talk about a ton of work... and yet all well worth it!
"Her children rise up and bless her" (Proverbs 31:28), or at least give me big giant hugs whenever they can.
To my little (or not so little) *E*: Thanks for the best past 7 years. Here's to MANY more!
- Your Mom, aka Leanne from MilitaryAvenue.com