Self Portrait # 11


11 years a mom.

This boy. Eleven years have gone by since he made me the most terrified I’ve ever been in my life. I held him in my arms and realized, for the rest of my life, this little human would be mine. Somehow, I was supposed to feed him, love him, and keep him alive and out of danger. Some days, I couldn’t even do that for myself. What had I gotten myself into?

His first year was spend with him literally wrapped to me. If I released him from my grip, his lungs would fill and horrible screams would fill the air. So many nights were spent sitting in a rocking chair, singing to this crying creature snuggled into my chest. I don’t know how I survived sometimes. I made so many mistakes with him, but somehow, he has turned out the way he has.

Besides the odd headlock and punches thrown at his siblings, this is a good kid. He is kind, and sweet, and sensitive. He is smart, and helpful and great with younger kids. He is a joy. A beautiful soul. Unfortunately he inherited his mommas dance moves, but he makes up for that flaw in so many ways.

This boy makes me proud. This boy makes the hard days a little easier. This boy looked at me with a smile on his face, and told me he was thankful that I was happy again. That I was smiling, and singing, and dancing again. This boy stole my heart eleven years ago. He makes me a better person every day.

I love you, sweet boy of mine. Happy Life Day Eli.

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