Tyler turns twelve

So here's my first go at the something old, something new strategy.

Tyler's birthday was five months ago, but we certainly cannot not mention that he turned 12 in 2008. Twelve! I am the mother of a deacon, which means I am old enough to have a son passing the sacrament, which means I am old. Sigh.

This past year his birthday happened to fall on the first day of school. He was extra thrilled about that--a birthday wish come true, I'm sure. But I think he somehow still managed to have some fun.

Opening presents, ever the goofball:

2008 was the year Tyler discovered the joy of Chuck Norris:

His birthday card, custom-made by yours truly:

All the loot, obviously still excited about Chuck Norris:

With his adoring little sisters:

One of the goals I had last year was to try to write down all of the funny things our kids say and to journal something about them on their birthdays. I wish I had done this years ago, but better late than never, right?

This is what I wrote on Tyler's twelfth birthday, September 3, 2008:

In the blink of an eye

Tyler is twelve today. Twelve?! He’s fast approaching the point of no return, leaving childhood behind and marching straight into adolescence. I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around that idea. (Who coined that phrase anyway? There’s nothing “wrappable” about a head—it’s just bad imagery, as far as I’m concerned. And still I use it for lack of better words.)

I have four babies, but he was my first, which makes him special. Yes, they’re all special, but each one is specialer in his or her own ways, and this is one of his (one of many). All of my first experiences with motherhood came from him, and we’ve been through a lot together. We’ve made each other laugh and cry and scream and pout and laugh some more.

He also has the special distinction of being our guinea pig, I suppose. If he’s a typical firstborn he will spend the rest of his days talking about how he never had what his younger siblings had or how he never would have gotten away with the things they got away with. He may even think that we could have been better parents than we have been. I know we will. That’s what we do as parents, right? Always worry and wonder about our mistakes, what we could have done differently, if it would have made any difference. I’m hoping he’ll at least be able to say, “It could have been worse.”

For now, I’m just grateful that at the end of every day I still get an “I love you, Mom.” I wonder how long I dare hope that lasts.

Tyler blesses our family in more ways than I'm sure even we will ever know. He's helpful, he's responsible, he's a good example for his younger sisters (mostly), he has a desire to do right and he's funny as heck. A keeper, for sure.