Let me let some of you in on a little secret: I never wanted to have a kid. Ever. I won’t say I don’t like children, but I don’t like children. I don’t mean that in a get all kids away from me type of way, I mean that in the “why are folks raising their children to be so awful” type of way. Yes. That’s me judging. Read on.

I know that statement comes off strong, maybe even surprising seeing as I have some of the best little people in my life. And believe me I have some of the greatest. I even spent years working around kids. I’m just not the “all children are perfection so I want to hug them” type person.

He’s named after some of the greatest men in my life. He taught me that although I don’t feel maternal, I am. I admire his caring nature. His ability to go into any situation with confidence. I was extremely shy growing up and just didn’t talk. The way he can hold an intelligent conversation with meaning is everything to me.

He’s also a disgusting 10 year old boy. He eats like a beast who needs to get a job today! a comic book reading, dead thing collecting adventure seeker. If left alone too long I’m sure he would fling himself off the balcony to see if he could grab onto a tree. Ok I’m being dramatic. Christian and I know the boy could survive if he needed to.

Every day I can tell that he’s maturing. He has such a command of his emotions it surprises me. His work ethic is impeccable. Part of me gets all sappy about him getting older, but I can’t wait to see where life takes him. For now I’m enjoying every moment we share together. He makes me want to be a better person.