Twenty seven years ago today, I was counting the minutes until 9:00 a.m. when I would meet you for the first time.
Your birth was planned via c-section, for various reasons, and honestly, I was relieved because the thought of labor always freaked me out.
This way, I knew precisely when you'd arrive.
Certain throughout my pregnancy that you were a girl (it wasn't so easy to tell back then), I had a twinge of disappointment until the nurse placed you in my arms.
Then I fell in love for the first time in my life, consumed by your very presence.
Staring at you for hours, I was enamored by your perfection and the thought that you had just come from another place. You were the strongest evidence of God's existence I had ever known.
Every day since then, you have enriched my life, and the many ways we are alike - and different - have both delighted and challenged me.
For example, both of us need someone to follow us around and make sure we take home our jackets, gloves, sunglasses and cell phones.
When B-man was wondering just how many damn cell phones you were going to lose, I shrugged and said, 'I totally get that about him.'
And we're both straightforward and intense in our conversations, unafraid to speak our own version of the truth. At times, this has landed us in dangerous territory, but we always seem to emerge with our love and respect for one other intact.
We both know that sweet potato fries kick ass.
But you love driving at night and you also love crowds, the bigger the better. You're gregarious in a way that I never was and you hardly ever get cold, wearing a t-shirt and flip-flops most of the year.
Always, our time together is golden because you make me laugh as much as you make me think. You are a brilliant star in my life and I am so very lucky, and proud, to be your mother.
I love the man you have become.
And you will always be my baby...my gift from God.
Happy Birthday, Jase.
Picture of JD my own