Yep, 22 years ago today, at sometime in the afternoon (I was heavily drugged so don’t remember the time so well), I had my first baby boy. We were poor, and probably not real sensible to be having babies at that point in our lives, but we did and I don’t regret a minute of it…well except for that time…ok I don’t really regret *having* him but there were a few times it’s a wonder I didn’t take him out…ok maybe not “take him out” exactly, but, well, anyway.
Now he’s 22. The other day he friended me on Facebook. Now, I’ve intentionally not friended my kids (except for #4, cuz he’s 10), because I didn’t want them to feel y’know, like they had to watch what they said because I was lurking around. But, he started it, so there I was on his page, looking at his pictures and I was thinking “my goodness, he has a life that is completely separate from mine. I don’t know his friends. I didn’t know he went there or did that.” Not in a disapproving way, but it was kind of…like…well, there he was,with a life that was completely separate from mine. Like he was a grown man. With friends I didn’t know. And that caused a touch of cognitive dissonance, in a good way.
So here he is, 22 years old, hasn’t asked for money in over a year, which means he’s COMPLETELY independent. That’s nice! He has a lovely girlfriend he brings over for dinner now and then, and she’s every bit his equal intellectually, and in character. Plus I like her…not that *that* matters but it’s nice. And he’s COMPLETELY independent…which is really nice. Super in fact, dare I say “spectacular”? Yes I do…it’s Spectacular.
He has, alas, inhereted The Hair Issue from me. Ergo, he’s losing it. He has quite the hairline now, and is fighting it hard as he can by wearing it long, in a ponytail. It looks good, really, but a Mother Sees These Things and I can tell it won’t be long before he looks kind of silly with a pony tail, as it will be merely a fringe around the edges. That’s ok, enjoy it while you can.
And here he is. Adulthood. Awesome. There’s been the assorted trials by fire, but you know what they say “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”, and I think that’s what’s happened.
The other day I emailed him with an invite for dinner, said I’d fix whatever he wanted, as a birthday gift and all. I also said I was sure he’d be busy tonight, being Saturday and his birthday and he’d probably be out doing stuff with his friends, so he could pick any day. You know what he said? He said he wanted to come SATURDAY, HIS BIRTHDAY, and spend it with us. I was..kinda…stunned, really. Flattered as well, and he asked for shishkabobs and peach cobbler with candles on top. I was positive he’d want to come some Monday or something, surely not Saturday, but there it was. Warmed the cockles o’ me heart, it did. And so it shall be.
Happy Birthday #1 Son. I love you!