THE PERFECT "10"

I may be his Mom, but by all accounts, and to anyone who knows my first baby boy, he is, simply, the PERFECT child. God gave me the most wonderful gift when he created my Jax.

He is the perfect blend of Tommy and I, with more Tommy in his nature and nurture, spirit and kindness, and me, in his looks. He is surely built like my Daddy. He takes his ambition for his future from both Tommy and I (wanting to become a cop after being a marine, like Grampie Frank.) He has amazing scholastic skills, patience with little ones (he loves his brother even when he is being his worst little Pudgie self), he plays hard and shares like there is no tomorrow.

Jaxi is my most emotional child. He wears his heart on his sleeve. I love this trait, even though he is going to get hurt when he is older. He is hard-pressed to talk about things that really bother him. A trait he surely inherited from me. Even with that trait, he is the one that isn't afraid to cry when he is hurt and isn't afraid to admit when it is a matter of the heart. (I just don't know exactly what it is that is hurting his tender little heart at these times.)

Somehow I don't know how my baby is already 10. Ten, going on 23. My little man is almost as big as me now. While celebrating his birthday at Oregano's, I just stopped and looked at him. He could feel me staring and turned and asked me what was wrong. Not a single thing. All I could think was:

Wow:

~You are going to have big, broad shoulders to carry the weight of the world on~
~You are beyond handsome at such a young age~
~You are full of life and love~
~You have surpassed that little boy stage that some hold onto~
~You are turning into a young man before my eyes ~
~I need to hold tight to your youth~
~You are starting to teach me things as we grow older~
~You quietly remind me that even though you are, "BIG," you are still only 10~
~You are trustworthy
~You are going to make a huge mark on the world some day~
~Your smile simply lights up a room and our family~
~You are, and always will be, MY FIRST BABY!!!! (even if your feet are bigger than mine now!)


As you grow older I want so much for you. It is almost impossible for me to put into word the dreams I have for you. I want you to watch sunsets in far away lands, hold hands with the girl you love, climb mountains in nature and in the rat race of life, to hold fast to your family, trust in your own heart, to dance with beautiful women, feel the rush of love, set goals and slowly accomplish them, to be humble, to conquer your fears, live with no regrets, never be afraid of chasing a dream, to stand up for your own beliefs and to call people on theirs. I want you to help those in need and never forget that it is ok to ask for help, in return. I want you to respect those you love and those you don't. I want you to live on your own, make mistakes, learn the value of money, family and friends. Most importantly, for you, I want you to be happy with who you are and where you come from.

Don't ever forget~
I love you: like there is no tomorrow, actually, the most.... more than cinnamon toast!

Once again, here is the letter from Erma Bombeck. It is the perfect words for my perfect boy!

Happy Birthday month to you Jaxi!



I do love you best.......

To the first born......
I've always loved you best because you were our first miracle. You were the genesis of a marriage, the fulfillment of young love, the promise of our infinity.

You sustained us through the hamburger years. The first apartment furnished in Early Poverty... our first mode of transportation, the 7-inch TV set we paid on for 36 months.

You wore new everything, had unused grandparents and more clothes than a Barbie doll. You were the "original model" for unsure parents trying to work the bugs out. You got the strained lamb, open pins and three-hour naps.

You were the beginning.

To the middle child...
I've always loved you the best because you drew the dumb spot in the family and it made you stronger for it.

You cried less, had more patience, wore faded clothes and never in your life did anything "first," but it only made you more special. You are the one we relaxed with and realized a dog could kiss you and you wouldn't get sick. You could cross the street by yourself long before you were old enough to get married, and the world wouldn't come to an end if you went to bed with dirty feet.

You were the continuance.

To the baby...
I've always loved you the best because endings generally are sad and you are such a joy. You readily accepted milk stained bibs. The lower bunk. The cracked baseball bat. The baby book, barren but for a recipe for graham pie crust that someone jammed between the pages.

You are the one we held onto so tightly. For, you see, you are the link with the past that gives a reason to tommorow. You darken our hair, quicken our steps, square our shoulders, restore our vision, and give us humor that security and maturity can't give us.

When your hairline takes on the shape of Lake Erie and your children tower over you, you will still be "the baby."

You were the culmination.

~Erma Bombeck