I've been a bit nostalgic for my boy's younger years. He was a mellow, curious little boy who wanted not much more than his Legos and Matchbox cars, and opportunities to be near the water. I've raised him on my own since the day he was born. We've been a team since day 1. In caring so deeply for another, I have learned an indescribable amount about myself. I've developed a fairly refined patience that has served me well in my work. I've learned how to be brave, and that it's okay to listen to my gut and not feel obligated to follow the advice of those who insist they know better. I'm a better person because of my child.
Now, he's 12 and in junior high school. He likes computers, photography and videography, spending time with animals, and classic rock. One of his teachers recently told me that what he appreciates most about my boy is that he isn't afraid to be himself. In the end, I think that is what I am most proud of.
Fortunately, he's still fond of his Legos, Matchbox cars, and being near the water. 馃檪
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