Today is not only tax day, but it's my oldest son's birthday! I know that it seems impossible, but I've got a twenty year old kid, proud issue of my womb.
Since he has to work this evening I made an early dinner for him and baked a brownie cake (the only cake like creation I'm capable of concocting).
I couldn't be prouder of the young man that Cree has grown into. Despite having at times nearly debilitating OCD, he's become a compassionate, industrious, artistic, and extremely loving individual. There's a wide spectrum of how acute OCD can afflict someone, and he's worked really hard (along with the best doctor imaginable) to be able to rein in his compulsions and high levels of anxiety.
Happy Birthday Cree! I went into labor with you at 2am and they removed you from my abdominal cavity at 10:24am. It was the first day of trout season 1989, raining, and someone brought me flowers. Believe it or not, back then if the baby wasn't in your hospital room you were still allowed to smoke. As Grandpa Herbie used to say before he died, I loved every cigarette I ever smoked.