Hpy B-day MSG

Dear Matthew Stephen,
Happy 34th Birthday #1 son!
We sure have been through a lot together you and I! A 34 year relationship that began for me, with much apprehension, total uncertainty, complete inexperience, and fear because of it all. How ever would I do this? And yet I went charging ahead with a youthful ignorance and bliss into the unknown, and with a stubborn rebellion toward all who dared stand in my way. It was not in my plan at the time to have a child, in fact I was so unprepared that I didn't even have time to see the need for a plan, of any sort. Plans are overrated! In my mind when I thought about it, I figured I'd have the 2.5 kids 1 boy and 1 girl, (I don't know what the .5 would have been) the cat, the dog, and the white picket fence that statistics of the day indicated for the average family. Well, who wants to be an average statistic anyway?!
We started with 2 strikes against us, in the bottom of the 9th and 2 outs, but we were in the game, and there's no point to being in the game if you're not in it to win. We were in it to win! It wasn't always pretty, it wasn't always skillfully executed. There's no way to know how to proceed except by proceeding, one step at a time, on the path that seems like the one most beneficial for all concerned. That's what we did, and here is where that path has led us after 34 years of steps!
I've always had a little trouble making decisions, which causes me to be at a stand still sometimes. When you were given to me it was a decision that was made for me, the only thing I had to do was say yes, ready or not I'll do it, and I did. It was a process learning how to allow you to be more important to me, than me. Until you came there had never been any reason that was necessary. It really wasn't a difficult process though, because you were "simply irresistible". Studying you watch and observe, reach and succeed, discovering new things daily. Hearing your "little guy" voice use for the first time, every single attempted word as your vocabulary grew into understandable intelligent communication. The smiles and hugs and kisses of my blue eyed blond curled beautiful #1 son had the power to transform an ordinary, unfocused, haphazard young girl, into a young woman who learned to develop strengths and characteristics that shaped her into a Mother. A position that has been, quite happily, my most satisfying achievement.
Children don't get to pick the birth order with which they enter a family, neither in fact do their parents, and so it should be. Better left to the more capable hands of the Master planner. There are benefits as well as pitfalls to being the #1 son. Parenting techniques are tested on the first kid, sometimes they're right, sometimes they're wrong, really wrong! On the other hand, the honor of being #1 is exclusively yours always, you can never be bumped out of position. You were the first to melt your parents heart, the first to break your parents heart. The first to be photographed, walk, talk, ride a bike, tie your shoes, go to school, earn recognition for outstanding character, go to camp, start youth group, drive, graduate, move out on your own. You get to be the big brother. All the younger ones wished they got to do what you did, and dreamed of the day when they would. The #1 child sets the standard for each one after him, for better or worse!
I don't think it's possible for a parent to love one child more than another, at least it is an impossibility for me. You and each of your siblings are equally loved to my maximum capability, there is not one molecule of my being that is left empty waiting to be filled by the one I love most. There is no fluctuation dependent on your performance, successes, status, or achievements in life. My love for you each just is. There is one slight difference for you though, my #1 son. No one else in this line up is the oldest child, the #1 son, 34 years old. So while I do not love you more than the rest, I have indeed loved you longer, and will have always loved you longest. You alone are and will always be, my #1 son.
Happiest of birthdays to you #1, and may you know the joy with your own family that I have known with you.
<3 Mom

December 21

Happy Birthday Andy! 27 years of "Andrew-ness" has been fantastic!
Nothing does a mother's heart good like sons who honor her with admirable character, a strong sense of responsibility, and the desirable qualities of a "real man", especially in a culture where all the lines have become blurred and political correctness intimidates, keeping the weak from saying it like it is, succumbing to the bullying of the "offended". Spine up! Frankly, I want to have men in my life who aren't concerned they'll appear "whipped" when they care what their wife thinks more than what their friends think. I want to say "thank you" to a man who holds the door allowing me to go ahead, or even any one else willing to conduct themselves with manners considered to be "old fashioned". I wish to be in a world where men don't need to be coddled when they've been self sacrificing for the good of their families, instead considering it what should reasonably be expected of them because their families happiness and well being is what they consider their most important contribution of themselves to the most important recipients, and it is their most rewarding investment. Bravely defend my and my children's honor. Courageously stand against anyone who intends harm. Boldly speak what is correct based on irrefutable truth. Admit remorsefully when wrong. Reject injustice inflicted on the helpless and assist however possible. See life through eyes of compassion, and be willingly productive and useful, even if it means doing it alone in order to make a positive difference for others. Don't be be a "taker" sucking the life out of everyone else, be a life giver, a life enhancer, someone who draws others into their refreshing, oxygen filled "aura". Don't speak of intentions, demonstrate goodness. Smile. Laugh. Listen.
It's Andy's birthday, he is one of those men, and while I relish the uniqueness of his effervescent personality, I would be remiss to neglect that I am the joy full mom of 5 more sons. I've done my part, offering to the world that those sons will influence, my most valuable treasure, one that has only been lent to me for a short time by the God who knew them and formed them in my womb, men, the kind that earn the right to be called "real men".
The family gathered to celebrate Andy, we gave him some cards and presents, sang the birthday song and blew out candles, but the truth is, Andy is the real gift!

Chistmas time

Christmas time is here. 2009 continues it's determined departure. Emotions run so high for me during this season, against my will, as though I were in a car going downhill with no brakes, I want to shout NO! STOP! I'm not ready, not enough time, not enough money, didn't get to do all I'd hoped to. I'm reminded of such need among so many and I can't make it better, how I wish there was a way to... if only...
I have a sore throat, no it's not a cold or sinus trouble, it's more like a lump, it's difficult to swallow. My nose is drippy, my eyes seem to have that same condition, and my vision is blurred. The problem is not just in my throat and head, it's in the pit of my stomach, way down deep where the serious issues churn. My thoughts have leaked out of my mind into my stomach, throat and eyes, my heart breaks as I try to grasp and hold what isn't even mine to hold on to. Time, like air impossible to grab ahold of, like water seeping through fingers, just slips away, taking with it opportunities missed.
There are so many "ifs", if only, what if? Just 2 small letters combined to become a word upon which all of life hinges. Everything could change, be something else entirely if... it would all be different had even one if been acted on alternatively. I would not even be me, or you, you, or anyone who they've become if... The intricacies and minutest elements count, everything is significant, everything matters.
Christmas presses me to consider what I've contributed, and what I've taken, and what I will do to improve at this thing called life. Christmas quietly tugs at my heart like a child on his mama's skirt, persistently, longingly, asking me to look into the cradle and see the baby of the first Christmas. The baby who for my sake became poor so that I could become rich. He, Jesus, did not have to leave the splendor of heaven, but He saw me, and you, and His throat hurt, and He ached deep down in the pit of His stomach for wanting to give us everything good, the best life, to know Him and His abundant love, tender mercy, and far reaching compassion, to give us fullness of life. I am compelled to give something of great value in return, and this is the dilemma. I have only this one short life, with all of it's flaws, faults and shortfalls. It seems so inadequate, but it is all He asks me to give. I can, and will make every effort to add value to someone, somewhere, somehow, each day, because He added such great value to me and mine, and offers this to you and yours.
Have you unwrapped this most special gift, and claimed the Christ of Christmas for yourself?