On June 3, 1997, I lay in a hospital bed slurping orange popsicles, talking to my buddy Scott and Big Dude, my husband of exactly ten months. I had been given several large doses of something or other that would insure that before the day ended, I would have a baby boy. He was induced because my sister had just given birth to a toddler a few months prior, and I had whined to my doctor to not let me gestate another minute lest the creature inside outgrow me.
He was born exactly on his due date. Little did I know, he would continue to be that predictable and reliable for the next twelve years.
As most mothers, I could write for hours about this child, and I have elsewhere. Today though, I will just say that for all the dumb mistakes I've made in life, and all the silly things I have done...you, Calvin, are the best thing I have ever created or influenced. I give Daddy most of the credit, but you deserve the highest praise for consistently being an outstanding individual. You are a poet, an artist, an athlete, a friend. You are kind, thoughtful, genuine, creative, honest and funny as hell. Your big round head contains only the purest of thought, your heart is that of a lion. Today, at twelve years old, you are one inch shorter than me, and two pounds lighter. Your huge shoes dwarf mine - which really bugs me, because I was hoping to buy you a bunch of really cool boots while we wore the same size and I didn't because we were only the same size for about fifteen minutes.
I love that you're still scared of the dark. I love that you have the vocabulary of a college English professor, but you can't spell "when." I love that the day before the first day of middle school you spent the day playing in a big box like my little boy. I love that you'll learn Rick Springfield songs on your guitar just for me. I love that you are shaped like my Daddy so I get to be reminded of him everyday. I love that you cream kids on the football field, and then reach over and pick them up and make sure they're okay. I love that you are loved by so many people and that your best friend is 67 years old. I love that you don't need braces.
You are the best person I've ever met, and I hope someday to be just like you.