Birthday Boy... er young man.

Today is a special day.
It's my baby's birthday.

Okay, he isn't my baby. He is my firstborn. My preemie. My fighter. My stubborn one. My sensitive boy. My giver. My funny one. (okay, they're both hilarious). My sarcastic child- I wonder where he gets it?

He spent the first 2 months of his life in a plexi-glass box. Helping to grow those tiny lungs. He's always been a bit impatient- felt the need to come into this world 11 weeks early.

Now. He is ELEVEN. How did that happen?

First time holding.. I would find a picture of the isolette, but we have just moved and I can't find my shoes, much less a picture.

He still spends his days confined to a plexi-glass box. In an ice arena. We wouldn't have it any other way.

 No one could have told me when I had that tiny 3pounder in my arms that some day I would be watching him skate on the ice week after week after week taking down big kids and little kids in his way. I am not sure I would have dared dream it possible. I was told by some "caring stranger" shortly after we were home from the hospital that he would always be weak.

Thank you for your unsolicited advice, but,  I beg to differ. My God is bigger than that.

.

 Happy Birthday, Jackson! You make us so very proud to be your parents! You are a walking, talking, skating miracle. Non-stop talking miracle.

No really, I'm talking, could you just shush for a minute?! Please!? Oh fine, carry on.

Love you, Chuck.