Happy Birthday, IBD!

Today, August 18, is my oldest son's birthday. Eight years ago (at this very moment), we were just arriving at the hospital, me in full labor. Five hours later, at 1:15, I was holding my new son. All 8 pounds, 3 ounces of him. He looked so serious (after he stopped crying, that is). His little forhead was all wrinkled and red, and his eyes all squinty. Like "The Thinker"... he looked like he was trying to solve all of the world's problems at the early age of 1 hour.

I'll never forget his dark eyes and dark hair, or the moment they announced, "IT'S A BOY!!!!!!" My husband and my Mom both wanted to find out if it was a boy or girl at the sonogram half way through the pregnancy, but I said NO. There aren't many true suprises in life anymore, and that magical moment when they say it's a boy or it's a girl is one of them. I didn't want to miss that chance, and I'm so glad I stuck to my guns and didn't find out.

Since that day eight years ago, so much has happened. We live in a different house; he's in 3rd Grade; he has a younger brother; he has MANY younger cousins; he's played soccer and t-ball; he likes to fish and swim and go boating. He's still a thinker- his cognative skills are off the charts. He's still beautiful, with those dark eyes and adorable dimples.

Most of all, he's still the joy of my life. I love you, Itty Bitty Dude!