Turning Eight

"I'm eight-years-old today!"

That's what Aiden said as soon as he woke up yesterday morning. Happily. Energetically. And as though he were ready to take on the world.

I can't even begin to believe that I now have an 8-year-old son. And that I've been a mother for eight years. Eight!

These past eight years have been perfectly imperfect and nothing short of amazing. Hard at times, stressful at times, but pure, pure wonderment.

He may be just eight, but he's got an old soul. I swear, there are times when I feel as though he's been here before. With his precocious wisdom, his tell-it-like-it-is outspoken attitude, his grandpa-like demeanor, and his energetic and loving spirit. His name means "fiery" or "little fire" and he embodies that name. In every sense of the word.

He is truly a ball of energy. At... all... times... and he never tires. Ever since he started preschool, every year, one of his teachers has given him a nickname along the lines of "Mr. Busy." (I'm not kidding.)

Aiden's never been one to just "go with the flow." He's always questioned and wondered and challenged the status quo and I absolutely love that about him. I wish I were that bold when I was his age. (Heck, I wish I were that bold even now as an adult.)

This has been a very hard year for me and him and us. But the fact that he's still standing shows me just how resilient he's learning to be. And that's a trait that I really admire in him.

He inspires me.

To do better. To reach further. To learn more and try harder and work smarter.

He inspires me.

To love harder, stronger, and more effectively.

He inspires me.

To learn to forgive and understand the true meaning of unconditional love. To parent gracefully.

This year, I've worried and prayed and cried and prayed some more. I've tried to instill value and character in him. I've tried to push him to be his absolute best and absolutely see the best in him... even when he wasn't exactly showing his best self. I've learned to advocate and fight and move mountains for him.

And I haven't grown weary. Because... he inspires me.

I hope Aiden knows how much I love him. Like, with everything in me, down to my fiber and bones and all up in my DNA. I hope he knows how proud I am of him and how I would find a way to make the impossible happen for him. I hope he knows that, no matter what, I'll always, always have his back and be there to teach and lead and guide him.

He always says, "Mommy, I love you all the way to outer space and even pass God."

Right back atcha, kiddo.

Right back atcha!