2. I am thankful for my son, Collier James. Of course, we're all thankful for our children, but I can honestly say that CJ is "my son." That can be taken in many ways. He is kind and extremely sensitive. He kind of marches to his own drum, which is something I wished I had the confidence to do at his age. He's smart, but rushes through things. CJ is a worrier, I would say above all else, that is what defines him at many times. When he gets in trouble for being mean to his little brother, he gets upset because he was unkind. He calls my mother, just to talk. And bless him, she never has her hearing aids in, and he has to repeat himself over and over, but he doesn't care. He just wants to talk to his Noni. He goes to church with Mark's parents, and loves the praise that he gets from their friends. So handsome, so sweet, so tall, so smart...and all of those things are true.
CJ loves to hear the story of when he was born. He'll ask often. So, I tell him how mommy and daddy wanted a baby more than anything, but it was never the right baby that we were meant to have. We found out we were having a boy, and we were thrilled. Pretty soon though, mom had a doctor's appointment, and the doctor said, I know it's early, but he has to be born-5 weeks early. So they told me they were going to induce in the morning, after I had seen a pulmonologist. I called Mark, told him to take his time, feed the dogs, no worries, I wasn't going anywhere. About an hour later, I started having weird pain. I went to the nurse to ask what Braxton Hicks feels like, and she took me to my room, hooked me up, and told me I was in labor. So much for tomorrow. Mark walks in a bit later carrying a bag of McDonalds, and the joke is that he came in and the baby was born. Of course it's not true. So, that night, the doctor decided it was too much pressure on the baby to wait, they threw scrubs at Mark, and off we went. All the peds specialists were there waiting, in case there was a problem with our little preemie. He was born, the specialists looked at him, and left. A good sign. The next good sign (and this is his favorite part), was when the nurse was cleaning him up, he promptly peed on her. C'mon, how can you not be thankful for that?!
He's always been a kind and loving kid. Maybe not too understandable in 3rd grade, but we've moved around a lot. We've promised to stay put, and he can grow up in the same town we did. And he's thrilled, which makes me even more thankful.