Happy Birthday to my Best Friend, Ryder Cash

Every year when November 14th comes around, I start to feel all of these crazy emotions at once. It just really signifies the first real day of my life. 

When you become a mom, it's like someone gives you a pair of glasses for the first time and you can finally see. And you didn't even know you were blind before. 




I knew nothing before him. I didn't know unconditional love. I didn't know compassion. I didn't know patience. I didn't know where my spot was. 

His birthday is the day that I found all of those things. And now, 8 years later, he is my greatest accomplishment. He and his sister are my proudest moments. Never have I ever felt as proud as I do when I get to claim them as my own. 

I know all of these things now.

Why am I writing this in a blog post? Because no, he doesn't read this now. But hopefully, someday he will. He'll look through all of these posts and laugh and hopefully feel the love I pour into every word I write about him. 

He'll read about the time he broke my redneck wine glass and I hot crazy mad at him. He'll read about the time I stepped on his legos and almost died. He'll hopefully not kill me for posting about the time he accidentally pooped his pants at a friends house. 



He'll also get to see how many lessons he has taught me,  and how there's an actual list of things you have to duck from when you have a son

In the last 8 years I've called 911, been to the ER twice, been called by the principle, pulled out countless splinters, heard one too many butt jokes and skipped hundreds of bedtimes. And I'll never forget the day that he went missing when he decided to ditch daycare and walk home.

He continues to grow up into this amazingly smart, interesting, caring, crazy kid who lights up a room where ever he goes. He loves to read, draw, invent crazy contraptions and watch any sport he can get his hands on. He's all of these great little characteristics all rolled into one. 

There is never going to be a better  gift than being given the job as his mother. Luckiest girl in the world. 


I hope being 8 doesn't make him too old to want to hold my hand or cuddle in bed.

I hope his 8th year is just as exciting and fun and lively as he is. 

Here's to another year of being the best mom I possibly can be to the kid who made me believe in love, laughter and happily ever after.