This morning, because I had mistakenly told him he was born around 7am, my little one came bounding in and jumped in bed between Darrin and me. "I'm late guys! Sorry! I slept a little late!" he said with sleep still in his beautiful newly 9-year-old boy voice. LATE??? What was he thinking?????? This kid has an agenda, you've got to know. He has plans. You may never know what his plans are, but you must always know there IS a plan, and you must always be aware that you will become aware of the plan at some point!
Evidently, the plan was that he would come in and be with us at the exact moment of the anniversary of his appointed arrival into this world. He seems to have made a plan to celebrate his exact moment of birth by snuggling in our bed with his mom and dad. What a kid! I mean, seriously, WHAT A KID!!! I could only be slightly annoyed at being woken from my cozy slumber. After all, it was his birthday, and his exuberance and sweet innocence could never possibly be matched.
I dragged my sorry butt out of bed and pulled out his birth certificate. Turns out I had his exact time of birth mixed up with one of his sisters'. He was born at exactly 8:36am, MST. So we all snuggled back into bed, having not missed the precise moment of celebration, and discussed how he came out of his momma's tummy a la Superman - with one arm reaching out into the world in front of him, so he caused me undo agony as I had to deliver his shoulder at the same time as his head (he did say he was sorry!), and how I had no idea I could scream with such volume. We talked about how excited we were, and how excited his sisters were to meet him. We talked about everything, and then the moment came and went, and we hugged and kissed, and of course I cried.
My baby boy is 9 years old now, and I'll never get another. I treasure each and every moment I get with my 3 kids. They're amazing.
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