When I was pregnant with my oldest, lo though many years ago, I was thrilled. I'm sure I bitched and moaned- isn't that what pregnant women were supposed to do? But I loved watching him move around in my abdomen. He would press his feet against my skin and you could count his toes. When he was born, I was gaga over him. Probably drove my friends batshit talking about him. I loved to watch him sleep. When he hit 13, we decided that the old way of kings sending their children to live with other families was a pretty good idea. He was such a PITA for about two years, broke my heart. Now, he's turning 18 soon, and we get along fairly well. He procrastinates like crazy! He's so funny though, and smart, and cute.... there I go again.

I find myself very surprised that I'm old enough to an 18 year old child.