My youngest kid got the short end of the stick today.
His older brother has a family weekend in GA and a 36 hour pass out of Basic.
It's a six hour drive, a hotel visit, and much eating, drinking, and merriment.
I'm committed to going because I am so dang proud of him and cannot wait to see him in his uniform and hug him.
What you don't know is that today is J's 15th birthday and he really wanted me to come to WI to see him and spend the weekend with him for his birthday present.
And on top of already being committed to a trip to GA instead of WI, I couldn't get a card out to him because I had the wrong address, so it came back "undeliverable".
And, since I needed to save for his brother's trip, I wasn't able to get him the gift I really wanted to to get him.
The worst part is that I'm not there to sing "Happy Birthday" and make him a cake and take him out to dinner and treat him...well, treat him like he should be treated on his birthday.
Fifteen years and three days ago, J decided that he didn't want to wait another month to join us. He knew that his older brother's birthday party was coming up and did not want to miss it.
He attempted his escape early on a Thursday morning. The hospital said, "Nope, false alarm, mom, go home and he'll come when he's ready."
I knew that he was ready NOW. (And, man, I was so ready to not be pregnant anymore at that point.)
Mike was unbelievably clingy and I was touched out on Sunday, after two more days of false alarms, and he said, "Momma? Can we do the Tigger Dance?" (Insert big puppy dog eyes and an adorable freckled nose here)
Well, of course we can sweetie.
Over and over and over and over again.
Well, apparently J wanted to come and do the Tigger Dance, as well, because he was born 5 hours later.
I only have one hope for today, I hope that my youngest child, this child of my heart, knows how extremely proud I am of him.
I hope he knows that overcoming a near death experience at 11, learning how to not only live with diabetes, but thrive with diabetes is an inspiration to me every single day.
When I said, "I'm so grateful it's diabetes," it wasn't because I was grateful that my youngest child had a disease, it was because I was grateful that he wasn't going to die--eleven years was not enough time with him.
I hope he knows that every single day, he makes me glad that I was chosen to be his momma.
And anytime he wants to Tigger Dance today, I'm in.
Happy Birthday, J!
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