Cotter was born two and a half weeks early.  My blood pressure went up, seems about right, and he wanted out.  He was well over seven pounds and sick of floating around waiting for his life to start.

Cotter began taking formula and cereal early too, he ate like a truck driver.  He hated being a baby and even though he was the cutest little man ever, you could tell he was frustrated when he couldn’t walk or someone needed to change his diaper.

Cotter hit the ground running and he has never looked back.

When he was four he stuck a Band-aid up his nose and it took us two days to figure out the smell, only to have him giggle once it was discovered.  When he was five he pried the security plate off the electrical socket and inserted his fork.  Cotter has broken his bones, left much of his skin on the asphalt, needed stitches because of a tuna can, gone to the emergency room after being punched in the face, and even gotten himself so twisted in the back seatbelt that we had to cut him out.

Cotter is older now, but still that child.  He’s the speeding ticket, in the bathroom ditching a class he’s not prepared for, Works bomb making, dating girls that are clearly crazy, child.  He is the true definition of the word “handful.”  Nothing is easy, there’s always a story or an explanation.

He is well over six feet tall now, he shaves and tomorrow he will be seventeen.  Next year he will graduate from high school with honors and go off to college.  He will finally leave home, there will be peace, and I honestly have no idea what I will do without him.

He is my only son, an energy, a craziness, a joy that I will miss desperately.  I like the chaos, I’m used to it, and it always comes with his sincerest apology, eyes averted, warm hug, smartass grin, stupid joke, and promise to try harder.  He’s an incredible swimmer, brilliantly clever and the best guy.  So, I will bake him a cake, wish him a happy happy day and my heart will break just a little more knowing we are closer to the end of this chapter.

We had an argument just last week where he declared he was “old enough to make his own decisions.”  I replied with something he didn’t want to hear, he rolled his eyes and a few seconds later his door slammed.  He makes me crazy, no question, but I will cherish this next year and try to feel every moment as it flies by because when Cotter finally heads out into the big world, it will be a while before he looks back.

My thoughts from the laundry room.  How Hard is it to Turn Off Your Bathroom Light?!

age birthday children crazy life life Parenting sons

11 Comments Leave a comment

  1. Hold him tight, but not to tight. The thing I learned with time is that true bonds are unbreakable. He will go his own course and that is growing up. The bruises are earned and the mess is unsightly but eventually a hug will come about at.

  2. Wow, I’ve been there! I have 3 teenagers and a tweener right now – all boys and I will miss them dearly when they all move out! Great post – you really nailed those emotions. Thanks for sharing!

  3. This one made me laugh because my youngest is much like your son. He was born 2 1/2 weeks early, but at almost a whopping 10 pounds. I’m thankful for C-Sections. I was sad his last year of high school because he would be my last to leave home. The one who always had friends over, which made our house noisier. Don’t worry, though, just as you get used to the peace, they come back. I love that two of my kids have returned home. However, after living as an “adult” for a while, they shouldn’t think they can move back in and mom will take care of things as usual. Now it’s my turn to roll the eyes.

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