24 Years to Be Grateful

My son Josh is 24 years old today.
He's my firstborn, boundary-banger son who challenged me every step of the way during his growing up years. Not in an obnoxious, in-your-face way. More of a "Are you sure about that?" kind of way.
I remember sitting around with a bunch of other moms talking about the challenges of raising kids. My friend Cheryl said something so, so wise.
"Let's just admit we nearly killed our first kids."
She was right.
Being the firstborn, Josh had to survive the reality that I was an oh-so-untried mom. I made a lot of mistakes with him that I didn't repeat with his sisters.
Sorry about that, Josh.
There are privileges with being the firstborn--and there are challenges and pitfalls too. Josh has managed the position well for 24 years now, breaking ground for his three sisters and making life a little easier for them too. Curfews? He dealt with them first. The "Talk?" Yea, he got that first too. Discipline? Figured out some of the basics of that with him. Driving a car? Yep. (And again, my apologies, Josh.)
I always want to say something profound when it's my child's birthday. And yet, when it comes down to it, I find I can't. My heart is too full of all the ways I have loved my son through the years--through it all--and how he has loved me.
Wishing somebody "Happy Birthday" on their birth day--that's easy.
Being family--that's real life.
And for that--and for my son--I am grateful.

May your day be anchored in gratefulness.