For those who've heard me talk about my kids, you know I have two boys.  My oldest, who will always be my baby, much to his chagrin, is turning eight at the end of the week.  All you parents out there will understand what I mean about it being a happy/sad week.

When I look at this precious boy, I can't believe eight years have already passed.  I have such clear memories of the day he was born, all his little milestones, his first birthday and all those since.  I remember when he was two and he was my little buddy... he'd just jump in the car and go anywhere with me.  We had lunch at a nice restaurant one day, just the two of us, when he was just a little guy.  He was so well-behaved and such a sweetheart.  I couldn't believe what a great lunch date he was... and still is... I just don't get as much time to have lunch with him alone anymore.  

So now, fast forward... he's eight.  He doesn't like me saying that.  He says he's still seven and I shouldn't say he's eight until the actual day.  He's very precise that way... very structured.  He's my 'hall monitor.' 

As I look at this child, I am so thankful for all of the wonderful places we've been and things we've done together as a family... and thankful for each and every memory along the way.  And, while the thought of him growing up and eventually leaving home is more  painful than I can stand, I also look forward to all of the new memories yet to be made.  I can't wait to see the kind of wonderful man I know he will become.  I look forward to seeing how his creativity drives him and shapes his life.  I'm curious to know what he will really be when he grows up... because right now the plan is to be an astronaut who also trains alligators.  So, we'll see how that works out for him.

Anyway, I guess I'm feeling a bit sad that my little guy isn't so little any more.  But, truly thankful and overjoyed by the amazing gift that this boy is in our lives. 

Happy Birthday, son.  I love you to the moon and back... times infinity.