My baby had a birthday. No, not the baby growing (and leeching my will to live) within me. And no, not Lucas (who, consequently is also leeching my will to live - but that's another blog post entirely).
I mean my Miles. He believes that he's now a big boy, but I've made him promise over and over to be my baby forever. I've confessed my undying love and affection for this kid before, and friends who know him personally just can't help but feel the same way about him. He's intelligent, thoughtful, polite, and hysterical. Every day after Matt leaves for work, Miles will cuddle up to me and tell me in his most important voice, "Don't worry mom, I'm the man of the house now."
Happy Birthday, big man!