Twelve…really?

by Tickled Red on December 3, 2009 · 5 comments

Really? Twelve years old? You have got to be kidding me…where did the time go?  Will he really be driving in three years?! Off to college in six!! Ack! I think that I am going to be faint. Look at that little face. He did not grow up that quickly. I can’t possibly be old enough for him to be twelve, I still feel twenty. Alright now, I said that I felt twenty, not looked twenty…be nice.

All humor aside,twelve years ago today something wonderful happened to me. I became a Mom for the first time.  Mom…you know,the person you looked to for comfort, ideas, & strength. That person with whom you associate bedtime stories, band aids for your skint knees, and hot coco with cookies. Mom…that all consuming female figure that took care of everything when you were growing up, even snapping you back into shape when you stepped out of line. Mom. Yep, that’s me…and some of you out there as well.

I don’t know about you but for the first five months of being pregnant I was terrified. Now I was not terrified of the actual birth or the pain that was associated with labor, but what was to came after. I was terrified of the enormous responsibility of not only a tiny child but that of  another living persons soul.  How could I possibly do what my mother had done for me and my siblings, what my grandmothers had done for their children. How would I measure up as a mother? What I have discovered after twelve years is that how your children turn out is yes, in part due to you…in part. I truly believe that they are, most definitely who they were meant to be, from that very first moment.

We are only their lighthouse, their guide, their compass. They though are the navigators of their life. Life is free will…free will is choice…the choices each individual makes reflects their character. As a mom you do what you can to take the life that was placed in your hands for safe keeping and give he/she the best possible direction that you can. After that you can only hope that they make wise choices and be there to remind them along the way.

As I look back today at how terrified I was on this evening twelve years ago, I have to smile. I smile so completely from the inside out at how thankful and blessed I am. I am so blessed that I was chosen to be their mom. To be the mom of those two monkeys that are my sun and moon, is beyond words. But today is his day, and I am just that little bit more thankful to him for making me the mom that I am. He taught me for four years on his own how to be patient, nurturing, resilient, selfless, and utterly and completely content with the word MOM. That way when his little brother came along, there was no trepidation, only joyous expectation.

Happy Birthday my love! Thank you for twelve entertaining years. Your smile lights up all of our lives, your kind, gracious manner warms our hearts. You are a great big brother and your silly sense of humor TICKLES us to no end. I can’t wait to see what you come up with next. The man that you are growing into. We love you!

P.S.- Just from me to you…no matter how big or old you get, I hope that you always hug me as you do now :)

Tickled Red

{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }

Jess December 3, 2009 at 9:28 pm

OK, now you’re making me feel old. If memory serves, it was that blessed night that we broke the news that we were expecting our first. Yikes the time has flown! Happy birthday, Monkey! And a big hug to you, MonkeyMama!

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Danny Rose December 3, 2009 at 10:05 pm

That is beautifully written. send it to readers digest or something, It should be in print!

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Sherry December 8, 2009 at 9:56 pm

What a writer … I agree, you should submit this to someone … all of your writing actually … instead of painting maybe you should focus on writing stories… this blog could be published. It is beautifully written in every detail and the pictures make the story. Good Job !!! Can’t wait to read more. I love you.

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tickledred December 9, 2009 at 6:28 am

I love you too. I really appreciate you saying that, it really makes me feel good.

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