My first baby, born eight whole years ago today.
You made your way into the world on a cold wintery night in Wisconsin.
At 2 am, your dad and I negotiated our way to the car to head for the hospital, icy driveway crunching under our feet. The nosy neighbor peeked out her door to ask “Is it baby time???”
Oh yes, you were on your way.
14 hours later we met. (how is it that those 14 hours seemed longer than the last 8 years? nevermind that.)
And there we were.
You arrived and made me a mom.

Once a butterball baby and now a lanky kid. For certain, some things will never change. You will always make me laugh, with that glimmer in your eye. You are witty and silly and very sweet. You are a thoughtful friend and an amazing big brother. I am so proud of you and I’m honored to be your mom. This is your day. Happy Birthday, sweetheart.

The top photo was taken at about 5 months old. I’ve always loved that shot. So happy, that baby! Now at 8, in the bottom photo wearing the birthday jammie pants I made him. Flannel camo-skulls, what could be better? (In our house we refer to the process of putting your pajamas on as “getting jamified”! Here, I’ll use it in a sentence: “Bedtime! Go upstairs and get jamified!”)