A birth story of my own

I'm taking a five minute pause here to honor this day, my older son's birth day. It was seven years ago today I pushed out my first crying, flailing collection of cells. Now he aggravates and annoys me more often than he inspires me. But he is certainly still capable of the latter when he forgets his first goal in life is to make me pay every minute of it for putting a younger sibling in our family mix.

Today was a good day. Even though his little thorn of a brother was home from day care, recovering from a stomach bug, Avery and I managed to get some time together that was genuinely and mutually fun.

It boggles my mind that he's closer to his teens than to being a newborn.