Happy Birthday, Josh!

It's hard to believe that eighteen years ago today, I was meeting you for the first time. I had no idea how to be a mother--how to change diapers, make you stop crying, how to give you a bath. But most of all, I had no idea howyou would completely steal my heart. The magnitude of my love for you took my breath away at times, consumed me at others. Changed who I was at the very core.

So tiny at 1 week old. In your Pooh nursery that I worked so hard on--and that you noticed not a bit. So little, so sweet, still a little orange. For weeks at a time, it was the two of us against the world.

You grew into a toddler, and we were still a team. You were still my favorite playmate. You were still your momma's boy.
And then you were a busy pre-schooler. And we moved out of our little apartment and into our first house. You wanted to be a "wobot" for Halloween, and I searched high and low --there really wasn't internet yet--and finally I made your costume. You wore it for weeks. This was our last Halloween as a family of three.

Years passed and you grew into a little boy. You went to school, learned to read, made friends, grew a little farther away from me, as Sarah and Maddy were born. It was an adjustment for us both, having to share our time together.

The years were not always easy. There was pain, upheaval, and many unwelcome changes in our lives. And you impressed me with your strength, your sense of responsibility, and how you stepped up to be the man of the house. I loved the way that you looked after your sisters and me, and the way that you tried to protect me. That was a bittersweet time. Some of our worst, but best memories were made. However, not many pictures!

And then we met and married Daryl. One of the sweetest moments of our wedding was when you walked me down the aisle to give me away. So handsome, so grown up.

And after that, I watched with pleasure as you changed. As we started life together as a new family, I saw you blossom. You began to enjoy life without the veil of worry and responsibility that you had taken upon yourself. You started at ELCA, you began your relationship with Jesus Christ, you grew in so many ways.

You loved your paintball--and we have a shed in the backyard to prove it!

You developed a keen sense of humor, and the ability to laugh at yourself. Along with that came your confidence in yourself, in your own skin--no matter what you were wearing. :)

You started high school and gone was the Ceasar cut, and thus began the fascination with the long hair. You went to your first day of high school with hair that clearly defied the dress code--one of the only times that I have ever seen you openly challenge authority. (We cut it that afternoon, by the way...I think it was just a statement you had to make)

You started driving. First with Daryl, then with me, and then on your own. It was hard to let you go by yourself that first time. I was afraid that it was just the beginning of the times that I would watch you drive out of my life. But you always came home--and you were still sporting that long hair. One night, at 11:00 pm (yes...once I was in bed) you woke me up, handed me a pair of scissors, because you had forgotten that Coach Campbell had told you to cut your hair. We learned that night that there was a reason that I was not a hairstylist, and that next time, you might be better off to remember!

You spread your wings even more, as you ventured to other countries to share the love of Jesus with others. I was overjoyed that you wanted to go, but wary of letting you go so far away. Still, I let you follow your heart and God's leading, and I am so glad I did. Your experiences on those mission trips in Jamaica and the youth conference in Budapest helped shape your character and your desire for your future. (And yes...the hair...still long)

And then came something I had been dreading. The day that you gave your heart to someone else. The day when I was no longer the one you loved best. The day you came home and told us you had a girlfriend. And it was Maranda. I was so proud of the way that you treated her, the little things you did to show her how much you cared, but just a little bit sad that it was now someone else that held your heart. Over the last year, I have gotten used to it, realize what a perfect match you make, and been overjoyed at the man that you have become.

Happy Birthday, my sweet boy. I thank God every day that He gave me the honor and privelege of being your mother, and I can't wait to see what He has in store for your life!

I love you!