18 Years? Really?

Due to extenuating circumstances, this post is coming a day late...



















Oh Drew!
Happy 18th Birthday!!!
(all the exclamation marks are just for you... I know how much you love them!)

Our little "Drewbie Doo"
Or as Aunt Kathy calls you... "Scooby Drew"
Or your dad calls you...  "Drewders"
Or Billy..."Jocelyn"... very long story.
Or your cousins... "Gust"  (pronounced Goost).... another long story.
Or Kessa... "Uncle Gust"

!8 years ago my life changed forever.
You... our sweet baby boy entered into our lives.

After an emergency c-section...
You were taken to to a hospital an hour away from Defiance.
We were told... "broken blood vessel or aneurism on your brain".
Your dad stood at the other end of the room in tears...
I sat in my hospital bed in shock.

After many tests, they said it was "apnea" and sent you home with us.
The medications made you uncomfortable.
You would just cry and cry.

I will never forget...
All of those long hours in the rocking chair.
Just you and me.
You were my little "Drew Bear"
I would sing this song to you over and over:..



















You became quite the chubby kid...
And just about the cutest little man ever!

We all still talk about how you used to come out to the living room in the morning and climb on my lap...kinda crying and say "it's a bootiful day momma".

So cute!

You and your blue blanket and your football nuk -- precious.

And now...
Your all grown up.
A Man.
Still precious.
Still my Drewbie.
I really do try not to call you that when you are on the baseball field....
Just slips out sometimes.

Dad and I couldn't be any more proud of you than we are Drew.
The way you serve others.
Your work ethic when it comes to school and your job.
The way you love your sister?

We are so very thankful for the way you make us laugh...
Your sense of humor is much needed in this family.
I love to watch little Lance just laugh at you...
You are such an amazing big brother to him.

God is going to use you for His Kingdom Drew...
He already is!
I love that you want to be a pastor.
I hate that you come in to our bedroom when Dad and I are fighting and try to give us a sermon about loving one another...
Ok... I don't "hate" it.
I actually am so very grateful that you want your life to count for what matters most.

Tonight... we will sing "happy birthday" and eat a cookie cake to celebrate!

It will be niche (is that how you spell it?)






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