There is something to be said for an oldest child having a birthday. Not because the oldest child is any more important than the others, but because the birthday of an oldest marks not just the beginning of that child’s life, but the beginning of a mother.
Nine years ago, Jordan started life, and really, I started mine too.
Nine years ago, I watched as the largest part of my heart took up residence outside of my own body – in the tiny hands and eyes of my newborn.
Nine years ago, I started to grow.
And I still grow. I have moments when I think I’m a full blown flower, beautiful, lovely, radiant in the sunshine. More frequently, I realize I’m still just a seedling, holding onto my tender, fragile roots for dear life, hoping only to survive, let alone thrive.
Through it all, the ups and downs of my mothering journey, one feeling is ever present – the feeling of gratitude. I cannot imagine a more powerful, wonderfully enriching way to have spent the last nine years, than in mothering.
And I can’t imagine a more delightful, wonderful, (not so) little person to have started me on this mothering path. Jordan is truly remarkable – quiet, reflective, and yet so completely hilarious when he chooses to be. I have no doubt that he was meant to be the oldest – he wears the responsibility of leadership well.
He is my very heart and soul. Or at least, a fifth of it.
Happy Birthday Jordan. Lets keep learning and growing together, shall we?
For a few more pictures, click on over to my sister’s blog… if you’ve never seen her baby, it’s worth the click just for that. But there are pictures of me and my girls too, so off you go!
