oh my goodness! I have a 9-year-old!!

This morning I watched my big boy walking off to catch the school bus on the corner, and I marvel at how he has grown. From a stocky baby to a tall lean third grader, he is proof of how fast time goes. He is 9 years old, smart, funny, and full of non-stoppable boy energy and boy humor. Fart joke, anyone? How many ways can we use different forms of "butt" in a sentence? Have an urgent question regarding caterpillars, turtles, or reptiles? J's your kid. How about a challenging game of soccer? And I dare you to try to build anything as cool as J can build with his Legos -- seriously. Of course, if you are needing a more serious discussion, say on the evolutions of Pokemon characters, like Turtwig, then call up our oldest child.

But while we celebrate the nine years of life we have enjoyed with our son, there is a woman in Guatemala who may be struggling with her loss. Every year on this date, I wake up and think of two things: My precious son and his first mom. As I give him his good-morning birthday hug and kiss, I wonder what she is doing, thinking and feeling. While we spend the day celebrating J's big day, I also spend the day thinking about her -- this woman that I have never met but who gave the greatest gift a person can give. I hold him tight, not just for me, but also for her, as if I can magically and telepathically send the warm embrace to her. As I kiss him all over his face and tell him how much I love him, I think of the love she is sending to him.

I could go on forever about my sweet, beautiful boy, but I'll keep some of it to myself.

feliz cumpleanos, mi hijo.