On Twelve

Yesterday afternoon, JT and I headed out to Modell's, armed with some birthday gift cards and a baseball-related wish list: he wanted catcher's gear.  Little League practice has already gotten underway and the boy is eager for another season behind the plate.  The time had come to invest in his own gear. 

As JT tried on the gear and adjusted it all to suit, I was struck by how very quickly the years have passed by.  When I welcomed that 7 pound baby bundle into my world twelve years ago, I knew in theory that a boy would some day follow.  Even so, at that moment in the middle of the night on February 17, 2000, it seemed like such a time was far, far away.

And yet, here I am, the mama of a young man.  He's charming and funny, on the cusp of the world of adolescence (see: iPod, iPad, command of baseball statistics, eagerly read stories in Sports Illustrated, and size 10 feet) yet still willing to embrace some of the trappings of childhood (see: the bins of Playmobil in the playroom, his enduring affection for games of tag, the imaginary games he plays outside, his willingness to call "I love you Mama" as he walks to school in the morning).  I feel the passage of all this time.  As often as I see glimpses of the little boy he once was, I can see glimpses of the man he will become.  And as much as I long to slow the passage of time, I am so very excited to see the future of this seven pound bundle of joy.

Happy Birthday, sweet baby boy of mine.