Happy birthday, buddy!

Convention--My little guy page C

Well, despite being about the pickiest eater on the planet, my man Dan has made it to year eight. He is so big and strong and I have no idea how that happened, since he apparently subsists on air. He can knock me over in a squeeze that's more a wrestling hold than a hug, strangle me in a paroxysm of joy with his after-school greeting, dampen half my face with an over-exuberant kiss that leaves me mostly makeup-less. He can break my heart and make it bust with pride in the same day. He can drive me up a wall one moment and make me melt into a little mommy-love-puddle the next.

Rub-A-Dub-Dub 

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I am the mother of an eight year old boy. I had no idea eight year old boys were so precious. Did you?


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