At this exact moment in 2008, I was the only ponderously pregnant person sitting in the theater for the opening night of a little movie called Twilight. Surrounded by screaming fangirls and one tremendously embarrassed boy, I began having contractions.
Unfortunately, my water didn't break during the movie and send them all running away, screeching.
Fortunately, the next day, this happened.
"It's okay if he's kind of an uggo," we said. "He'll grow out of that, right?"
Fast forward to three years later.
He's about to be three.
Looks like he's out of that awkward phase.
Happy Almost Birthday to my favorite goofball,
the guy who gives the best hugs ever,
and who is also very strong because of his muscles.
When you were nine months old, I came out of my mom-coma and started writing. I haven't stopped since. Now I have a book coming out next spring.
Something tells me it's going to be a lot easier to push out into the world than you were.
Thanks for stretching my mind, son.
But most of all, thanks for the hugs.