My Baby

That, right there, is a picture of my son, Matthew, taken at midnight....the moment he turned 12. Twelve! My baby! Shutup, I can call him my baby if I want to. And I don't usually, but..holy crap! My baby! Is twelve! Which, of course means I had him when I was 12. :)

I could sit here and write a bunch of sappy stuff and show his baby pictures and burst into an off-key rendition of "Sunrise, Sunset"....but I will spare you....and him....the embarrassing scene.

What I will say is....this boy has come so far, and overcome so much....and still continues to overcome everyday. He is my sweetest antagonizer...my Mini-me. Albeit a mini-me who hates to shower and sees brushing his teeth as a form of torture.

Every since he was a baby, he has done this thing where he shakes when he gets excited. He balls his hands into fists in front of his face and shakes. I have to say, it was just as cute, watching him do it today, in anticipation of his birthday, as it was when he was two and watching the trash truck. I pray I get to see him do it when he gets his first car, graduates, and on his wedding day.

Happy Birthday, Matthew! ......now go take a shower.