June 2

This "little" guy of ours was officially promoted to high school tonight.

Isaac and his fellow eighth graders assembled on the football field at Abby's school and, following a lickety-split 34-minute ceremony, were officially proclaimed high schoolers. Just like that.

Of course in reality, it took much more than a simple half-hour ceremony to get to this stage. And honestly, as I sat there in my little white chair in the stadium this evening, I couldn't figure out how we got here so quickly. I mean, wasn't he my chunky-monkey 20-pound six-month old just a few years ago? Wasn't he just in speech class with Ms. Denise over at the preschool last year? And all of that notwithstanding, didn't he just finish elementary school a few months back?

I think it's probably always like that for moms: our babies are always our babies, no matter how many hits they get in the game or how many times they lug the garbage cans from the curb to the backyard without being asked. And we're always proud of them and praying for them to grow and change into the best people they can be. At least, that's what I do. And somehow, I doubt that I'm alone in that quest.

So tonight, I'm grateful for this kiddo and for the ways he's made my life better over the course of the past almost-14 years with his humor and sweetness and determination and kindness and patience and that endless stream of bedtime I-love-yous that are oh-so-predictable and oh-so-beautiful all at once. Congrats, Bup! Keep being you at Amador.