I'm going to confess something here. When I was 20 weeks, and the ultrasound tech said the word "boy", I cried silent tears on that table. David didn't want to know what we were having, but he told me later (20 weeks later) that of course he knew it was a boy by the dazed, weepy expression on my face when I came out. Boys? What are those rough, sweaty, rowdy little people all about? Wrestling-near-the-wedding-china, baseballs-on-the-windowpane, rock-dings-in-my-new-car kind of people, I thought. That's what they are.
And sure enough, the first three years were rocky. That precious son sweat nonstop when he was supposed to smell like Baby Magic. Even in the bathtub he would sweat, just a small little thing lying there hot and bothered. He walked at 10 months--no, he RAN--and I chased him frantically across parking lots all over Leon County, a tiny man-child in smocked Jon Jons and sturdy white walkers who would sprint away giggling.
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| still sweaty. |
Returned by a stranger one morning. Found in our busy street, wet diaper and no clothes, along with our (very naughty) beagle who had snuck out the back gate. Vaulted over crib rails and guard gates by 16 months. Cracked a poorly swung PVC baseball bat across my 8-month-pregnant forehead. Oh, those salty mama tears--they continued to flow as I tied pink bows in the sunny hair of my precious and perfect daughter and watched my toddler son destroy tea party after tea party.
There was a part of me deep down inside where I, in my immature and exhausted state, resented the huge sum of energy I lost to keeping that child alive.
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| Blessed--truly blessed--with not one son, but three. |
Flash forward all these years. If you met this child, I would wager that you wouldn't see an ounce of the boy I have described. For as he grew older, there was a refining of his soul and my soul as I began to understand Paul's words: "For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully, just as I am fully known." (1 Corinthians 13:12) What was once unpredictability, aggravation, and frustration has been transformed into trustworthiness, admiration, and joy. I only wish I knew then that the mirror was dim, trusting more and holding fast to the vision of the young man he would become. The first one up every morning. The coffee-maker, lunch packer, silent helper. The tender babysitter, fun-loving big brother, diligent scholar, quiet Christ-follower.
The kindnesses he has shown me are too many to list.
He is a servant leader, a trustworthy friend, a fierce competitor, a disciplined heart, and a most fine example of brotherhood and son.
The tears, they have turned to tears of joy. So on his 10th birthday, a party felt in order--a celebration of God's perfect plan kept in the dark and dim and made brighter and brighter still with each passing year of this life I feel privileged to share.
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| Remembered the custom cake, forgot to pick up candles. Ah well. |
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| Every boy's dream: the win. |
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| Much loved by brothers and sisters, AM even gave him nine bucks (she kept the tenth so she could buy a Coke...not surprising) |
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| When they say "I like how it feels to go uphill", you indulge in the road bike. |
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| So this is how Collin finished up his special day--with a little brother love. |
Happy birthday, my beloved son.
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