Patrick will be sixteen next week. I always get weepy around his birthday. His birth was long awaited but almost tragic. Long story short - my uterus ruptured during birth, he was rushed to ICU and we both could have died. Needless to say we're both ok and have been since he tried to pull the respirator out and had the nurses saying he was the strongest baby they've ever seen.
Over the years he's brought me great joy. He's an intelligent, hilariously funny, generous old soul living in a tall, skinny, handsome exterior. He's a cool kid with a geeky side who skateboards, has held a job since he was fourteen, watches Charlie Chaplin movies with me and likes to bake his great Auntie Julia's Scottish shortbread recipe.
I remember when I was pregnant with him wondering how could I love another child the way I love Glenn. How could I feel this way about another human being? How could my heart hold so much more love? My answer came the moment he was born - my heart grew. And continues to grow because I love him more each passing day.
Happy Birthday Lil Man. I love you to the moon & back a million gazillion times. So happy you're mine.





