Dear Charlie-

Here is the post I intended to put up yesterday, our main computer died this week, and if any of you have had the experience of reloading everything on to your system once it gets fixed, you will understand why I am a bit behind!

Thirteen years ago today your dad and I were on the way to the hospital at 7:30 am.  It had been prearranged, no late night hurried packing for us, or a mad dash to the hospital.   You had decided you didn't want to be born, and two weeks was the longest they would let me go.  So they were ready and waiting for us.

For the last few months I had been singing to you, and reading to you, and imagining what you would look like.  As all parents do, I was hoping for ten fingers and ten toes.

You arrived just before 9 pm that night, and we were smitten.

The first year was an adjustment.  Lack of sleep, late night feedings, and watching as you wrapped us around your tiny little finger.

You were a delight.  Even though you weren't much of a sleeper, you loved food.  And your cats, and car rides.  And your soft blue blanket.

As you got older, you were obsessed with anything with wheels.  Garbage trucks rolling through the neighborhood, bobcats working construction sites, lumber trucks in VHS tapes we got at the library.  Remember Lenny the Lumberjack?

Books were always at hand, "Mike Mulligan" was well loved and worn.  You discovered "Thomas the Tank", and loved playing with your Brio train set.  One of your favorite things was the Al's Farm Toys catalog.  We kept one in the car, for you to enjoy on trips.

Before we could blink you had started school, and I missed having you at home with me.  You were confident, and sweet, and smart.  Your world was expanding, and you explored every part of it.

You learned to ride a bike, reluctantly setting aside your all-terrain trike.  You played t-ball, and soccer, and we cheered you from the sidelines.

You loved to help me cook, and sometimes garden, although the dirt was always more fun to play in with your trucks.

You developed wonderful friendships, and were quick to giggle.  We loved taking family trips, and watching you explore every place we visited.

We taught you the importance of family dinners, and spending time with your cousin was always one of your favorite things.

Today you turn thirteen, and I just can't grasp how the time has flown so quickly.  You reminded me that becoming a teenager is the "last phase" before you become an adult.  I don't think I'm ready.

But I can't turn back the clock.  You are turning into an amazing young man, the glimmer of which I saw in the wide eyed look of your toddler years.  You have a great sense of humor, and are redefining what you like to do in your spare time and who you want to spend it with.  You ride through the woods on a dirt bike through trails I can barely walk on.  While we have far different taste in music and tv programs,  we can still find common ground now and then.  Family movie nights used to be videos of Thomas the Tank, and now they are the works of Alfred Hitchcock.  Time flies indeed.

We will do what we can to help you grow and become the adult you want to be.  Hands off when necessary, arms open wide for a hug when you need that. 

Happy Birthday sweet boy.  We love you so.