My husband and I met online in 2003, and a year later we were married and had a son. Today, that sweet baby boy turned 10. No more single-digits, y’all. He’s a full-fledged pre-teen. Lord help me.

It’s funny how these things sneak up on us, isn’t it? He’s our youngest – my daughters are 20 and 22 – and we have been anticipating today’s birthday for months, but I really hadn’t considered the fact that he’s entering a new phase in his life. Looking back, though, we should have seen it coming… over the last twelve months, I have purchased new pants for this child three times. Last fall he was wearing size 10 jeans, then in the spring he moved to a 12, and this fall, in a single day it seemed, he needed new jeans in size 14.

FOURTEEN!!!????

There were other obvious signs of preadolescence… his smart mouth has ramped up to Disney Channel sitcom levels, he can eat his weight in string cheese and Kind bars, and the emotional mood swings we witness would put Housewives of Any County to shame. But even with these signs, it is only this evening that it has occurred to me that he is no longer my Baby. He is now my young man.

I hope I have the stamina to keep up.

Lord help me. And pass the Aleve and chocolate.