Okay, favorite line from a movie? Well, one of my many favorites because who can pick just one...
Freaky Friday- the redo:
"Oh, I'm OLD!! I'm like the Crypt Keeper!!!!!"
Today, I'm feeling OLD.
I have always been blessed with just the right "age". When I was young and crazy, I looked older than I was so I could get into places my license said I couldn't. As I have gotten older, I have been blessed with "good skin" so I look younger. But today it is official, I am undeniably old. Is that a wrinkle??? --clunk-- oops, dropped the mouse in shock.
It is my son's birthday, and he turned 15.... 15?! That makes me, um, well, OLD!! Wasn't he just a baby? Didn't I just last year put headphones on my tummy so he could be exposed to Mozart in the womb and be a genius?? BTW, it worked scarily enough... go figure.
A week or so ago I got all weepy and emotional and got out the one and only video tape I have of him as a baby (I almost wrote cria, yikes!) and watched it. Tissue in hand I marveled at how CUTE he was. How little, and, well okay- maybe a 9 lb 14 oz 22 1/2" baby isn't really little, but you know what I mean. He fit in my lap... barely. Now he towers over me, I mean really- at least a foot over me... disgusting that yet again I am the shortest one in my family.
So this blog is for him.
Cameron, you are a joy in my life. No matter how rough your teenage years are, you are a constant source of pride, and belly laughs. I love your sweetness, your talent for music, and your faith. Your inate goodness. And your sense of humor. You make me laugh kid.
When you were 7 months old and could point out Grover in the story book, I was amazed. When you were 15 months old and learning your numbers, and would constantly plop the 'number' book in my lap to learn more, I was shocked. When you were 17 months old and could identify every shape in the shape book (including some I didn't recognize) I was a little terrified.... How could I possibly keep up? Then came the reading of books at 4 years old, and the totally ecstatic kindergarten teachers when you went to school that first day and they figured out that you really were reading the Pledge of Allegiance from the poster on the wall. The look on your grandmother's face when she realized you were actually reading Harold and the Purple Crayon ( I think it was the dream one) and didn't just have it memorized was priceless. You couldn't dress yourself without help, but you could read a mean novel.
Sure enough, in 10th grade you are far beyond me in all things mathematical.... okay, in third grade you were really, but let's not tell anyone that okay? And your memory for numbers, well, that certainly didn't come from me. That selective memory thing you got going on? You know, when it comes to chores and things work related,,,, that you got from me.
Your truly amazing ability to pick up a musical instrument, and in an hour have it down is astounding.
I love how we can still talk for hours, about everything. Love that.
I love you son, I am proud of you, and I want you to know that each and every day with you in my life is a blessing from our Heavenly Father.
To the President of the Paca Poop Picker Upper Society- or do you prefer to be called "Fertilization Specialist"??
This one's for you baby.