He's Eight! Ain't it Great!? Well, one would think so. But, he's my baby, and I can't seem to accept it. See? I still refer to him as "my baby". What is wrong with me? Is it my refusal to accept the fact that I am getting old? Or is it because I know, just like with my older two kids, there lingers around the corner that unpinpointable day when his body will no longer be of the small snuggable variety, or he just doesn't want to be physically coddled (at least in public). So we'll celebrate and have a great time. I'll post pictures of him through the years on my Facebook to honor this milestone. I'll smile in the process. And I'll cry. Read more. As days, weeks, and years continue to come and go faster and faster, this birthday reminds me of how special each and every minute is with him. I'll appreciate those spontaneous "I love mom"('s) that flow so naturally from his mouth or is drawn out thoughtful...