We recently celebrated the birthday of my first born. He’s almost thirty now. Seriously.

If I had a quarter for every time I’ve heard, “You don’t look old enough to have a child that old!” I would definitely have an iPad by now…. I must say, the compliment is great, but the truth is, technically, I am not old enough to have a child that age, according to most standards anyway. I used to get a sick feeling in my stomach, and hold back the words, “I know! but when you have a baby in high school, you can look this young too!” I tested that once or twice, and the response is never good, unless you like making people uncomfortable. So, I smile and say thank you. For the record, I do not feel old enough to have a child his age. It does kinda freak me out… Anyway, celebrating a birthday of one of your children seems to always be a time of reflection, no matter what age you were at their birth…

I fondly remember being 4 weeks past my due date and having to be induced… On the way to the hospital, blaring Ozzy on the radio, we stopped at McDonald’s so I could get some fries and a hot fudge sundae.. (they go together ya know.) Upon arrival to the hospital, I was hooked up to all the appropriate medications and set to cook… After 10 hours of contractions without dilation, I had an emergency C-section. I can proudly say I was my doctor’s very first horizontal incision. In recovery, I was visited by a representative from the county’s program for teen mom’s. What a blessing that turned out to be. The program included a mentor, a visiting nurse, a visiting counselor and lots of group activities to teach and equip new moms. I received a nice certificate of completion and a mentor for years… I did have lots of family support as well… which was huge considering I am a poster child for stubborn, strong willed and determined…

I had countless people say, “oh! you’re just a baby with a baby!” or something really close. Man, I hated that. I think I still get a little riled when someone says I’m just a babe, or young. It’s an issue I’m working on. There’s this thing called pride, that rears it’s head and I want to prove myself. silly. I know.

How did this all work out? Well. He is still alive, but that would be by God’s grace and I cannot take any credit for that. Did I know what I was doing? Heck no! Did we grow up together? Yes. Do I regret any of it? No. Am I proud of the man he has become? Heck yes.

I can tell you that I learned to listen to all the advice. It’s polite and sometimes even helpful. Then I pray and try what I think would work best. Everyone is different, and some things just don’t work for every child. I watch my children with an open mind. They might not be who you think they should be, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing… every time you say, “that’s just the way he/she is”, you’ve put an expectation on them that defeats the point of growing, which is, in fact, the point. I have also learned that the mistakes they make are for their own good. Consequences are always a learning experience that you cannot simulate or explain, no matter how hard you try. When difficult seasons come, and they will come, I find peace in the fact that God loves them even more than I do. I’m a firm believer that everything happens for a reason and children are a gift from God. I am but a steward of an amazing creation and I try to behave that way. Parenting is a pretty cool thing. I’m grateful that I get to be one even for almost 30 years.. Really.