I'm Coming Out of Hiding Purely For Comfort

Time goes way too fast. I'm a firm believer in that these days.

Once I hit 35, somebody put my life on fast forward. And I don't like it one, stinkin', little bit.

The reason for my rant?

My boy. My only son (so far). He turned 17 years old today. (whimper..whimper)

Seventeen years ago at 6:32 a.m. he made his 8lbs. 1oz. appearance into this world. I was a mere 22 years old. Wow, I'm feelin' a little old right now.

He was an active child from the start. That is putting it mildly. The boy ran me (and everyone else) plumb CRAZY on some days. He was into E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G! All. The. Time.

He had 3, yes 3, sets of stitches by the time he was 3 years old.

- 1 st set in his lip. He wasn't listening about sitting down and fell out of a chair at my sister's house. He hit his lip on the bottom of the chair, putting his tooth through the lip.

- 2nd set in his hairline above his forehead. He wasn't listening about jumping off an outside toy. He fell and hit his head on the cement.

- 3rd set in his belly. He wasn't listening about climbing into the cupboards at my mom's house. He slipped off of the stool and IMPALED himself on the cabinet handle. He was literally stuck. I had to lift him OFF of the handle to get him down. They had to do an x-ray on that one to make sure he hadn't hit his spleen.

Does anyone notice the pattern here?

He survived childhood though. Barely. He did have one more set of stitches in the side of his head where he was bit by a dog. Another really gross story that I won't go into.

They told me he was ADHD in first grade. I told them to get over it, he was a rambunctious, little boy. And he got over it. For the most part.

He inherited his mother's math gene. Although he managed to pass his Geometry class. Barely, but I couldn't even manage a "barely".

He started playing football in 4th grade and hasn't stopped since. He now plays varsity football and will get his letter jacket next week.

And now, all of a sudden, he's 17 and a junior in highschool. He has muscles and leg hair! My little boy!!!

So, forgive me if I'm a little sentimental today. Honestly, I really miss him being little sometimes. He has always kept life a little more interesting.

But I'm proud of him and the man he's becoming. He has a lot of kinks he still needs to work out, but he's getting there. He funny and sincere and for the most part, genuinely nice. He has a killer smile and can most efficiently schmooze his way out of any sort of trouble, with most females, upon flashing his grin. It doesn't work on me anymore. Sort of.

Anyway, I just wanted to say Happy Birthday Isaac! I love you, my son!













He'll always be a Momma's Boy.