He's 18....

Wow,, 18, my son is 18!! Eighteen years old.. EIGHTEEN!!!! YEARS!!!!! OLD!!!!! I was not a teen when he was born, I was not in my early twenties when he was born, in fact I was staring at 30 from two steps away. I was 28, getting a divorce, and suddenly I was being told I was 4 months pregnant,, wow,, I couldn't be Doc,, you said I would never have kids! My miracle, my baby, my life. 11/23/91 @ 1:23. His lucky numbers,, 123.

All the planning, yeah,, single again! Hold on to your men,, she'll make us worryin' wives, and bring us alibis,, look out she's single again.. lol,, well that didn't happen. We stayed married for the military benefits until he was a few months old. Then I WAS single again,, and home with a brand new boyfriend,, a tiny, skinny, bossy, little man who completely stole my heart and owns it to this day.

Do I feel old? No. Do I feel older? No. Did I feel a tiny little piece of my heart start to separate as the ties that bind loosened a bit? Yes. My little man isn't little anymore, and the baby of my memories now wears the uniform of a man. He holds himself taller, straighter, and now,, instead of reaching up to be held, he leans down to do the holding.

My baby is 18 today.