
Today is my boy's birthday.
He is 12 years old today. I can't believe I just typed those numbers: 12. It just can't be.
Every year, on their birthdays, I write to/for them. Today I will do the same. It just feels right, whether they ever read this or not, to write for them. Today, for him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nolan-boy. My Bubby-boo-boo. My Bubba-wubba,
I love you. I love YOU. I LOVE you. I LOVE YOU!! I can never type these posts on your birthday without tears and pride and completely overwhelming, humbling, incredible emotion in my chest that swells with each word I type.
Today you're 12. You're growing up. But you'll always be My Boy, won't you?
We will always have a special bond--do you know why? You probably do, but I'm going to tell you anyway. You and me? We're two peas in a pod. We think alike. We talk alike. We act alike. We look alike (I know you didn't want to hear that). We love alike. We laugh at the same goofy stuff (like the "Crap Store Buffet"!). But being alike isn't always easy either.
Sometimes we disagree. Sometimes you make me angry and vice versa, huh? Sometimes I see too much of me in you and I push you, maybe a little too hard, to do better; be better; work harder; to achieve more. I'm sorry if I push too hard. I just want what's best for you. Always. Always.
You're insanely bright, incredibly handsome; irresistible even. You are the most loving, caring, sweet-hearted boy I've ever known. Your love runs deep, strong and true. I think that's what I love most about you. No, I know it is.
This year has been difficult for you. I hate your asthma with a passion that I've never hated anything before in my life. Nolan, I stay awake at night, think of you every minute when you're sick and I beg the universe to give me your asthma; give me your sickness. I truly, utterly hate it when you're sick. It makes me furious. But Baby, I'll take care of you. I will. I will be with you, feed you, give you your medicine, find the best doctors in the land for you. I'll spoil you too, you know--with all the TV, video games and movies you want when you're sick. And I'll make all the ramen noodles you want, too. We'll get through it together. I promise.
This past year wasn't all bad though, that's for sure. This year you surpassed your Mommy in height, didn't you (although, that wasn't very hard, was it?)? It's so strange when I catch a reflection of us together and I see this young man standing next to me who I don't immediately recognize. It's weird. I can't believe it's us! You're so amazingly handsome, tall, strong. I feel so safe and taken care of when you carry and lift things for me now. And so loved. Thank you for that, sweet boy. You are my life's destiny, my reason to be alive, the very essence of my soul--you and my love for you.
I'm looking forward to this upcoming year with you. I love seeing you take off, so self-assured, brave, not afraid of anything, ready to conquer whatever crosses your path. And you'll do it, for sure. I can't wait to see where we are one year from now when you turn 13. Just quit bugging the shit out of me to watch PG-13 movies, will ya? I'll kick your ask.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
~Mommy