I was sick yesterday. Sick as I'd been in a long, long time. I could barely lift my head up off my pillow. Coincidentally, it was my kid's birthday. And I missed the whole damn thing. The present opening in the morning. (I think that happened on the bed, but I don't really remember), the drive to school with the cupcakes, the party at the soccer field, and the sleepover at the house. (Okay, maybe missing the sleepover wasn't such a bad thing.)
But here's the thing about turning 9 - you don't need your mother as much as she needs you for things like this. In the blink of an eye, he went from my snuggly, needy baby who refused to sleep to this nine year old boy who refuses to cut his hair.
Oh, dear boy. The whole world is ahead of you. And I think you already know you own it.
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