How fortunate I was at age 39 to find out I was finally going to be a mother after all! My gynecologist was less than pleased to learn of the impending birth at my advanced age and advised me to “train like an athlete” if I was to have a healthy baby. Train I did, continuing my usual fitness program of daily runs with my new husband and stepson, as well as swimming at the local gym.

Matthew Michael was born just after my 40th birthday a healthy, happy dream come true. It seemed like no time that he was walking. I remember one evening I was cleaning up the last remnants of dinner when I heard a squeal of delight. I turned to see my two year old standing in the kitchen with his pajama top on and nothing else save for my black high heels! He opened his mouth with a wide grin to reveal a piece of dog food kibble neatly tucked behind the tip of his tongue. He knew our yellow lab’s food was off limits, so this made it all the more delicious.

The seasons of love and laughter have sped by and now as the teenage years are underway, this spring we finally spent a week cleaning out broken toys, dress-up pirate hats and swords, and nightlights that are no longer needed, to be replaced with posters of fast cars, swimming ribbons and snowboarding photos.

“What about this old stuff?” was my son’s innocent question. He had found the top drawer where I’d stashed his most precious of baby memories. Into a bag they went destined for a quick sort-through of what was to be saved, given away or tossed. The bag made it to the safety of my home office, or so I thought.

My husband thought something terrible had happened when he came home from his trip to the Goodwill to find me sobbing uncontrollably. When I thought we’d mistakenly thrown out Matt’s first knitted cap and booties along with other precious memorabilia, I went into hysterics. My husband’s expression said it all – no need to explain.

I’m from a far off and bizarre place called Planet Mom, where the unexplainable is known to occur. I’ve stamped my double dibs on past summer camp creations, aged and yellowing handmade cards and drawings, as well as a lock of hair from that first haircut.

I found a handmade Mother’s Day card from long ago the other day that is stored away in my box of treasures that says it all:

“A Mother Is Like….

A beautiful flower;

A defensive player;

A Wise One;

Juliet;

A Wall Of Love;

An All Seeing Eye;

An Annoying Fly;

The Deciding Factor;

And More,

Love, Matt.”

I think that sums it up nicely, don’t you?