Today is Saturday, May 11, the day before Mother's Day. I'm driving my boy to a baseball game and later to a friend's house. Sounds like an average day, but it's that same boy's Golden Gotcha Day!! Eleven years ago, May 11 fell on a Saturday, and it was the day before Mother's Day. I hadn't slept at all the night before, so we left ridiculously early Saturday morning to pick up both sets of parents and drive to O'Hare to wait for our baby to get off the plane. After an excruciatingly long wait, I got my first glimpse of him down a long hallway. His wispy hair was sticking straight up on top, and he was beautiful. He looked slighty scared, but mostly he was observing everything, and probably (now that I know him) wanting to ask a million questions.
I clearly remember the feelings I had when I took him in my arms, and it still makes me cry eleven years later when I think about it. Instantly overwhelmed with complete love. I was crazy about that boy, and even now with his adolescent mood swings, I'm crazy about that boy.
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