My son is growing up. I am facing that shocking reality more and more every day. I still remember the little baby that I held so closely shortly after he was born, and willed him to fight, willed him to live. Kristofer was a preemie, by 8 weeks, 4 pounds, 15 ounces of fighting little newborn.
You would never know it to look at him now. He's almost as tall as I am. And he's 11. And a half. He likes Star Wars and video games. Football and bike riding. Cartoons and drawing them. He's a well-rounded little boy.
I am a proud mama.
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