I remember seeing you for the first time. Your little cone shaped head. Your dark brown hair and red full lips. You cried and cried and all I wanted to do was hold you. Because somewhere inside me, there grew this immense feeling of protection. I wanted to hold you because I wanted to protect you. I needed you near me. I needed your skin to touch mine. I needed to feel your little breath and ease your sadness.
And still... 11 years have gone by and I feel the same way and more, much more.
I watch you sleep and I don't see the 11 year old you have become but that little baby with the crinkled dry skin and that cone shaped head with the huge hickey on the top.
You are growing up so fast and it scares me to death. Time is running out. I won't have you near me much longer. You are growing, maturing, become the young man who God has intended you to be. I have the privilege of gettign a front row ticket to it.
At 11, you are picking up the fine art of sarcasm (maybe a little too well!) and you love to make everyone laugh. You are such a beautiful young man. You have this amazingly sweet heart. You love hard. You have strong opinions. You are inquisitive. You are figuring out this big bad world... where you fit in it... and how God's hand works in it all.
My sweet little peanut, I sometimes find looking back on the moments your presence has created in my life. These bittersweet moments are the reasons I prayed so hard for you. You own a big old chunk of my heart. And I never want it back.
I love you, Peanut!
I wish you a very happy 11th birthday!
Mom
xoxo
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