It seems nearly impossible that my darling boy is nine already.
I've always been ridiculously proud of him, but this year even more than usual. On the heels of a months-long period where his daddy was totally unreliable and a separation that broke his heart, he then had to grapple with my being seriously ill, and the treatments and surgeries and being away from home that my illness required. Sometimes he seems closer to 39 than nine, and his little shoulders carry burdens that no child should be asked to carry. But he does it, and with more grace than many grown men would show.
My Liam has the spirit of a warrior, but a little boy's heart. He is as fiercely protective of me as I am of him, and I bless the day he entered the world. I'm so fortunate to be his mother.
Happy birthday, my sweet boy.