Today I feel old

Today I am the mother of a 34-year-old; my son, Christopher, is 34 today.  Thirty-four!  I have to say it a million times to believe it.  I never feel old until I think about how old my kids are--that freaks me out.  Thirty-freakin'-four.

All mothers think their sons walk on water and I'm no exception, so I'll spare you the blah, blah, my son is amazing, blah-blah.    Just believe me when I say he's a beautiful, gentle soul.  When Connor was born, Courtney said, "I just hope he's a sweet boy like Christopher."

Courtney always loved her brother

Christopher was a good little boy, but as a baby he was a real pain in the ass.  He was constantly hungry, constantly screaming, and could splatter a wall 10 feet away with projectile vomit.

So there we were with this wailing baby who, though he would sometimes settle down if we put on soft music and placed his baby seat right next to a speaker, was generally impossible to please.  At the time we had an terrible pediatrician and since I was only 20 years old and my husband was all of 23, we sure as hell didn't know any better than to take his advice, no matter how positively shitty it was.

I remember telling my friend Donna's mother how this freakin' kid was driving me insane and I was ready to lose it.  

Mrs. Sacca listened and nodded calmly.   "Yeah, I remember when Frank was a baby," she said, referring to her oldest child.  "I just wanted to throw him against the radiator."

Throw him against the radiator?!?

Of course, even the thought of child abuse is an abomination, but I have to admit those were the most comforting words I'd ever heard.  From then on, whenever he'd cry, I'd think, "You're lucky I don't throw you against the radiator" and I'd instantly feel better.  Terrible, huh?

Soon after we changed pediatricians and we had a much happier baby.  And today it's awfully hard to believe that baby is 34 years old.   Man, I feel old. 

My favorite picture of my boy

Happy Birthday, dear Christopher!