almost a teen

Twelve years ago today, at this moment (Mountain Standard Time), I was celebrating the birth of my third son, Cris. My labor had been induced, because the doctor was fearful that he was already over 9 lbs, with one week to go in my pregnancy. Also, my original due date fell on Halloween, and I wasn't too fond of the idea of delivering my precious angel on this controversial "holiday". It just seemed a little creepy to me. So, when my ob-gyn dangled the induction-carrot before me, I sprang for it. 12 hours and an excrutiating amount of pain later, Cristian Daniel was born.

He was a beautiful little baby, almost too pretty to be a boy. He had big blue eyes, full, rosebud lips, and was an 8 lb. 4 oz. peanut. I fell instantly in love with the newest little man to join our testosterone-laden family. He had such a mild disposition, was early to smile and laugh, and was a great source of entertainment for his 2 and 4-year-old big brothers, who immediately began to include this tiny person in their daily play.

That teensy little boy has stretched and grown into a lean and lanky preteen, who is coming dangerously close to being able to look me straight in the eye without looking up. He is witty, athletic, cuddly (aw, Mom, why'd you have to say that?), loving, strong, protective, emotional, smart, talkative, focused, eager, and a child of God. He likes to play football, loves to play basketball, and won't admit it, but is an avid reader as well. He has dreams and aspirations, many of which involve his becoming an NBA star.

It has been a joy to watch him become a young man, and I look forward to experiencing the coming years with him by my side, having to look up to meet his eyes, as I know I soon will. Happy Birthday, Son.