My Teenage Boy

“They” say hold onto your babies… “it” goes by fast. You think “they” are crazy as you’re chasing a fiery red headed 2 year old boy around; you think it will never end and there will be plenty of time to hold on to the precious moments you push to the side to do whatever it takes to pay the bills. You convince yourself that those nights with friends are irreplaceable so you get a babysitter because “he’s sleeping anyhow”; or at least that’s what happens when babies raise babies.   I was 23 years old when I found out I was pregnant with Jacob. It was shocking and surreal to say the least however I have always felt he was my blessing in disguise and continue to feel that way.

I remember the day Jacob was born like it was yesterday. How appropriate it would be for this incredible little man to come into our lives on Mother’s Day. I couldn’t stop staring at him. I just sat there in awe. He was perfect. He wasn’t like those other newborns that I had seen in the past; the not so cute ones. You know the ones I’m talking about. His face was perfectly round and his nose was exactly like mine. My entire pregnancy I had prayed that my baby wouldn’t have red hair (it runs in the family). As soon as I pulled his little cap off of his almost completely bald head the next morning…I saw the glimmer…the glimmer of the red. That’s what I get for screaming “you treat me like a red headed step child” my entire life, I thought to myself. I decided to keep him anyways. Every part of this kid is special including his to die for red hair. His strength, his friendliness, his humor, his beat boxing abilities, his heart, his patience, his kindness to others, his resilience to change but willingness to embrace it, his athleticism and without question his fearlessness.

I will never forget the feeling that ran over me when he went down the slide for the first time by himself. I literally wanted to make it my mission in life to take him to every slide within a 50 mile radius to watch him achieve the climb, the fun on the way down and his never ending energy to make that climb again. My dear, sweet, beautiful, red headed baby boy as you make this transition from child to young man you will encounter many climbs and many trips down that perhaps aren’t so fun however always, always know I’ll forever be nearby whatever playground you’re on to make sure you continue to have the energy to make that climb.  

Happy Birthday my teenage boy, or rather...Happy Birthday my teenage {ahem} young man.

Note To Self:
When he talks, listen. When he hugs you, don't let go until he does. When he wants to hang and watch the game, do it. These will be the small things that matter the most later.