Here's the birthday boy from yesterday. 

Hard to believe that 12 years ago I was holding my precious baby bundle for the first time.  I never got tired of staring at him, watching the expressions as they flitted across his tiny face.  He was the sweetest, cutest, best baby ever.  Of course, I went on to have three more sweetest, cutest, best babies, but William was the first. 

Twelve years feels like such a short time and such a long time.  He has changed quite a bit, to say the least, but I have changed, too.  Motherhood has brought out the worst and hopefully the best in me.  My older brother, Tom, sometimes complains about being the oldest and how tough that is and I being the middle child must staunchly pooh-pooh this idea.  Now that I'm a parent, though, I have to admit that, at least in our family, being the oldest really is tough.  Poor William is our guinea pig, he leads the vanguard in teaching us how to be parents: how to make rules, set limits, enforce them, be flexible, back down, apologize, start over, do better.  He paves the way for the younger ones, breaks down the parental strongholds, so their lives won't be so difficult.  He's a real Lech Walesa.  Okay, maybe I'm getting dramatic now. 

We had parent/teacher conferences last night and it was so wonderful to hear his teachers talk about what an amazing young man he is becoming.  We talked about his faults and struggles as well, but we really are so proud of our William and can't wait to see what the Lord has in store for him.