Mothering a Boy

As I was flying to Texas for my oldest child’s wedding shower and to plan for their rehearsal dinner, I was reading a book about a woman facing the empty nest. How ironic. In this story, the woman is watching her youngest son play in his senior year of high school football. She makes the comment that she loved that he still kisses her check at football games. This reminded me of the day my oldest child was born. JD was born two days after Thanksgiving in 1983. I was a mere 18 years old. Way too young to be married and having babies, but that’s another story.


The nurse brought him to me for the first time after I’d settled into my room and said “Boys are so special” I looked at her with my wide eyed innocence and wondered why she would think boys were more special than girls. I know now, that she was trying to make me feel comfortable in my new role as the mother of a boy. She said “Boys always love their mommas. After a football game my son kisses his girlfriend then he kisses me.” Those words stuck with me for the last 27 years. I remember those high school football games when JD would hug his girlfriend then hug me. I was so proud. Today¸ as I was reading about this woman whose heart was breaking at the thought of her baby leaving home, I remembered very clearly that nurse handing me my first born.

He’s a man now. He has a college degree, a great job that he loves, and he is about to marry a girl that I absolutely love. I guess it’s ok to take a little credit for how well he’s turned out. I have laughed, worried, cried and prayed over that child. I can’t wait to watch him start his own family with beautiful Meghan and see what an amazing father he’ll be.

Here is a photo I took at the shower today. Forgive the quality of the picture, I took it with my phone. My camera is still at home!