Sweet baby Cale (Mister Cale, Cale Bob, CB, Little Guy, Big Dude, Tattoo Man...) turned eight on Saturday. The day went great until we gave him his eight birthday whoopins....he officially then had the "suckiest birthday ever."
Yeah, like I said, he's eight.
It seems like just yesterday, I reached through the tent and touched him for the first time. His little fingers wrapped around my finger and I was hooked. He couldn't see me, he had on a blindfold to protect his little eyes. But he knew. And so did I. I knew that my life was forever changed by this little person who I brought into the world. And although he wasn't kicking and screaming...or breathing...when he made his entrance, I knew he'd give the world a run for it's money. And boy, was I ever right.
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