As I write this I am watching my now 3-year old race around the house chasing after his brand-new monster truck remote control car. There is pure joy on his little handsome face and unbridled excitement quivering through his tiny little body. It makes me a little sick to my stomach. Here’s why:

1) I’m shocked that it’s been 3 years since I layed in that hospital bed awaiting Jack’s birth only to find out he would be taken by emergency cesaerean. I’m ashamed to say that I’m still harboring a teensy bit of resentment that my husband was lounging comfortably in a restaurant booth across the street from the hospital having lunch while I was being pumped up full of drugs readying myself for surgery. Okay, fine. Nobody knew that I was going to need surgery. That’s not really his fault. But, darnit, I was hungry. And he was eating lunch. And, I was going to have a baby. And he was eating lunch. Jackass.

2) Jack has grown up, literally, over night. He was always such a baby and now he’s a little man. It just a short amount of time he’s going to find the love of his life and get married. And his wife is totally going to hate me and take him away from his family and then I’m going to have to concoct a plan to win him back. God.

3) He says the funniest things to me which indicates that he is old enough to have a sense of humor. Which also indicates that he will totally be writing a tell-all book starring his crazy family and I’ll be forced to hit the book tour with him to defend myself. That kid better cushion my retirement a little bit with his book money. Just sayin’.

3) If Jack is growing up, then so is his sister. Every day that I see them hit some kind of milestone it kills me a tiny bit. I never saw myself as that kind of mom. You know, the type that doesn’t want their kids to leave their cozy little nests? I totally pegged myself as the type that counts the days until they head off to college…or possibly some reputable trade school. I don’t judge. Slight disclaimer…I might possibly have counted the days until he starts Kindergarten(1034 days). But I hope time slows to a pitiful crawl once that day gets here.

4) If Jack and Avery are both growing up…then so am I. Every year that they get older is another year under my belt. I don’t fear getting older. I am a firm believer that age sharpens wisdom. I do, however, fear being older. I’m 3 years intomy 30’s and it still freaks me out thatI am my parent’s age. Well, the age my parents used to be. When they were 33. You get the picture.

So another year has gone by, my baby is one year closer to growing up and leaving my nest andI’m one year closer to contemplating that face lift. My stomach ache is starting tosubside as I look at my little family. I can’t help but think one thing: life doesn’t get much better than this! Okay, well my thighs could jiggle just a teensy bit less.

Happy Birthday baby boy!

Love to all, Mindy