Maybe my good mood left when I packed up the wee folks.
Maybe it’s because my stupid tremors are back, courtesy of the stupid weight gain of the past couple of months.
Maybe it flew out the door as Abner raced to earn his eagle.

With only two days until his 18th birthday they finally approved his efforts. He made it, in typical Fawndear procrastination style. My son is flying.
His project was to clear a trail, remove fallen tree’s and make and replace 23 plant identification signs.

That alone kept my mind whirling that I totally spaced his birthday. So what do you get a son turning 18 that has more in his checking account than you do? Who on a daily basis proves his is more mature than his mom.

That’s it? Yeah, he likes pirate stuff and all but this is one exceptional boy. And that’s all he gets? He has never in all his years once sassed me, raised his voice to me, threw a temper tantrum in any form what-so-ever since he was maybe 3 or 4.
This is the one in a million kid that when he see’s that I need help, he volunteers to help without being asked.
Of all the kids in the state we live in he qualified for Nationals in two events at TSA. He taught himself how to play chess at the age of four by just watching his Pompa and Dad play. He is exceptional.
So how does his mother mark his passage into adulthood - with a lousy water bottle. You’ve got to be kidding me.
I truly was sick to my stomach that this special day snuck up on me and I’d planned nothing, no party, no special commemorative gifts. Maybe my sub-conscience was trying to trick me into thinking if I didn’t celebrate his birthday he wouldn’t get any older. He wouldn’t soon be taking his amazing example and leaving the nest. Regardless of my pathetic excuses, I was a mental mess on his birthday. Still am, but that’s nothing new.
He even offered to help decorate his own birthday cake.

I was able to get a couple of his friends to come over at the last minute and play rock band with him. It wasn’t a total loss. And dad brought him home a computer gadget. So he didn’t walk away with only one thing.

But, I’m feeling like a stinking, horrible mom right now, and deserve to be taken to the woodshed. Well that’s where I’ve taken myself. He hasn’t complained a lick about the lack of attention. He never has. He always steps back and let’s the kids who bellow and whine take all my focus.
So help me – how can I make this up to him? Other than making him an Eagle quilt or something. Material things aren’t going to cut it. How do I let him know just how much he means to me? I can’t believe my baby is 18!!!!!