Eleven years ago, yesterday, I began the journey of motherhood (outside the womb, in a more tangible way). My little boy, who looked like a cross between an alien and a grumpy old man, has turned into a big boy complete with stinky feet and thoughts devoted to Legos, books and computers.
My first born was first in a much larger brood than I would ever have imagined. He's glad to be first, thrilled to be the leader of the pack, but always happy to make room for one more sibling's arrival.
Although he sometimes makes my eyes glaze over at obscure facts about Star Wars or Legos or Harry Potter, he's interesting, funny and a good companion. I'm still rather proud of him and glad for the chance to be his mom.