Thirteen

This morning, I turned on the light in CJ's room and sang happy birthday to him to wake him up. And then I promptly dissolved into a giant fit of mommy weeping.

CJ just shook his head. "You're such a marshmallow" he said, and stumbled off down the hall.

Once I recovered and he finished waking up, we sat on the couch, I put my arms around him, and we did what we do every year on this day: I told him about the day he was born. I told him about how I wasn't a mom until he was born (that always boggles the kids, because to them I've always been a mom, of course). I told him how lucky I am to be his mom. The mom of a teenager. And then I offered him a cup of coffee (because he's SO OLD now, right?) which he declined. :)

Happy birthday, big teenager dude.