He's 8.

I could go on and on really.  If I had the time I would, but he's got me at the ball park every single night. It's your own fault buddy.  I can't pull all your baby pictures and talk about how sweet your cheeks were and how blue your eyes are.  I can't even pull last month's pictures.  But, I can pull these and tell you I love you and how proud I am of you.



My sweet, loving, just want to have fun 8 year old.  Thank you for reminding me what's important on a daily basis.  I'm so proud of you.



8 years ago...you made me a Mom.  Thank you.  You taught me the deepest love I've ever known.

You will always and forever be my best boy.  I love you.  I love you more.  I love you the most.  I love you to the moon.  No, I love you infinity.

And he would say, "I love you more than that."

And I would say, "That's impossible."

And he would say, "It's opposite day."

And I would think...what does that really mean?

And I would pretend he won.

And secretly know he could never win.

Happy Birthday, my best boy.