Today, The Kid officially becomes a young man. We will celebrate with way too many slices of greasy pizza, a camouflage cake and a few close friends.
I think it has only been in the past year that I can wholeheartedly say I love this kid. Probably not like I would love a child of my own making, but since I don't have any kids of my own I'm not sure. My heart has always hurt for him and the bs he has had to put up with. But more recently, I feel much more than empathy. I honestly miss him when he's at his mom's. I truly enjoy the time we spend together, even if it's just eating dinner together. I am so very proud of all that he has accomplished in his life.
He's silly, funny, smart, handsome. He has a kind heart and a sensitive soul. When I see him smile, his real smile, there is no greater feeling.
His feet are growing much faster than the rest of him. When he runs, he trips and flails, his gangly arms thrown out for balance. This makes me giggle. But I know that pretty soon, I won't be giggling at his awkwardness; I'll be reminding him to trim his mustache, staying up late waiting for him to return from a date, looking up at him asking him about college.
I've spent years anxiously wishing for him to grow up, so that he could see the truth, escape from under the thumbs of those who hate his father. But now that he's growing up I want him to stay a kid. I know we only have a handful of Nerf gun wars left before that's not cool anymore. I know going out to dinner with us is going to be a major social faux pas soon enough. And I'm gonna miss that.
Six years ago, he wouldn't even look me in the eye. Today, he calls me mom (but only one no one else is around to hear!). I have no doubt that being his stepmom has made me a better person, and for that I am forever grateful.
Hey Kid, Happy Birthday and thanks for all the fish*.
*A reference to one of our favorite books, I wrote this in his card and couldn't resist including it in this post.
