This week we celebrated DC’s ‘twenty-five birthday’ (DC-speak).
I just cannot wrap my head around that fact. I cannot believe so much time has passed. I cannot believe that the little boy that I once carried around… everywhere, is 25 years old. I have heard about his ‘Twenty-five’ birthday all day, everyday since the calendars changed from February to March, but it really did not hit me, emotionally until the day before, when some tears were definitely shed.
‘Happy tears’ – I told him. He loved that.
He has come so far in those 25 years….
From the boy whose only word until he was almost 7 years old was “”Momma” –
To the boy that eventually moved on to –
“Mommy” – and then –
“Mother” when he’s feeling a bit more formal and/or reciting Disney.
To the man who at times decides that “Vickie” is appropriate because in his mind, he is an adult and he should call me by my adult name.
From the boy who was always the loudest person in the room but could not tolerate noise or crowds –
To the man who is still the loudest person in the room, but can tolerate noise and crowds so much more easily, most of the time.
From the boy with the very limited menu who I thought would never gain any weight –
To the almost 6ft, 200lb man, still with a limited menu, but a bit more open to trying new things.
From the boy, who due to a delayed reaction from almost choking, completely stopped eating for almost a month –
To the man who can still have the random delayed reaction, but now his Mom can usually recognize it and figure it out much more quickly.
From the boy who could not stand to be away from me at any time and had no interest in his peers and socializing –
To the man, who still must know exactly where I will be, but looks forward to spending time with his friends and attending social activities.
From the boy who, I was told would never speak –
To the man who never stops talking.
From the boy who was always lovable with me when he was a baby but had a very low tolerance for his head, ears, face and so many other touches that I remember saying, “If he wasn’t so loveable, I would think he hated to be touched”
To the man, who will still hug and kiss his Mom (and is not embarrassed to do so), but will also hug his friends, his family and just about anyone he wants to, whether they want a hug or not.
I cannot be more proud of my boy…. I cannot love this child more. He amazes me everyday. He makes me laugh everyday. He fills my life with worry. He fills my life with love. I would not trade the last 25 years for anything in the world. He is the joy of my life.
If I had only one wish; my wish would be for the rest of his life to be as happy as it is right now and that he will be just as full of sunshine and light as he is right at this moment……