Four days late is still better than he did 8 years ago.

It is true, I am the shittiest mother alive.

Here I am, now FOUR DAYS PAST my kids birthday, and I haven't even bothered to write him a post. I can write my ex boyfriend a post on his birthday right on time, but the poor middle child? Way to perpetuate the stereo-type he so lives by in the first place.

Don't worry about him, though. In a week, I'll edit out that top part, change the time stamp, and in 20 years he'll be none the wiser.


My dear baby boy, my TXU, happy 8th birthday. Today we realized that you are now the magic age that allows you to go down the waterslide at the pool all by yourself. This may the single greatest thing that has ever happened to you in your life so far. Well, that and Blizzards. Bygones.

I have written about you, for good or evil, in every conceivable light on this here bloggety blog. The truth is, though, that there is no way to put you into print. You are flickers of your past and glimpses of your future. You are forever changing and shifting and moving. You are a prism that came through me to light our world. In you, I am reminded and motivated at the same time. I knew you the day I met you, the second I met you, the way you know someone for a life time. You were no accident, you, being mine. As much as I don't believe in any of that stuff, you were meant to be, not just a kid, but my kid in my life at this exact time.

You remind me that I must have done something right along the way, because seriously? You are a gift, a present, a reward.

I thought that I would take a walk down amnesia lane and go over some of my favorite things you have ever said to me.