Patrick just turned 18 yesterday. My second born. My second c-section baby. My first was so traumatic with an emergency c-section. With Patrick, I curled my hair, put on makeup and grabbed my white fur swing coat, as we headed out the door. Shawn and I listened to our favorite songs on the ride from Weymouth to Boston. And when we went through the front doors to the lobby, I walked up to the reception desk and asked, “Delivery, 10th floor?”
It was easy.
And for eighteen years, it’s been easy being Patrick’s mom. When he was a baby, he slept through the night quickly. He learned to walk and talk within a year, and soon after, he was telling jokes that his Papa taught him. He’d walk into the room, and say, “Got time for a joke?” Just like my dad. But at two years old. He was big on elephant jokes. “How does an elephant hide in a strawberry patch? He paints his toenails red. Get it? Red because strawberries are red!” And then he’d laugh and slap his knee.
With only two years between them, Patrick and his big brother, John, were best friends. When one would wake up, he’d run into the other one’s bedroom. In the Spring & Summer there were countless hours in the backyard, on the swings, in their fort, or playing in the pool. In the Fall, they’d jump in leaf piles and puddles. And winter was filled with snowsuits and snowballs, igloo forts and snowman-building contests. You’d never see one without the other.
When their baby sister came home from the hospital, Patrick leaned into her bassinet, and said, “I’m Patrick. I’m your big brother, and I’m going to be the best big brother eva!” And he has been. My phone is filled with the two of them sitting together in the yard, laying on the walkway and making chalk flowers, sitting together on our old boat sharing a sandwich.
As he got older, the days of silliness went away, to a degree, and it was filled with cub scouts and t-ball. We realized pretty quickly that Patrick was smart. In second grade, he was getting third grade work because he wasn’t challenged by the current work. And if he got a 95 on a test, he wanted to know what he missed. He was always learning. Always asking questions.
Cub Scouts turned into Boy Scouts, and now, he’s made it to the top 3% of all scouts by joining his brother, as an Eagle Scout. Two Eagle Scouts in our family is quite an accomplishment, but I never doubted it. Patrick has always been goal oriented. He’s always been a hard worker. Currently enrolled in AP and Honors classes, he’s 18th in his class with a GPA of over 4.5. He’s remarkable.
He makes it all look so easy.
And the relationship he had with his siblings hasn’t changed. He still wakes up and goes to John’s room, and visa versa. They still joke around with each other, and tease their sister about her latest crush, (which seems to change daily).
And as he gets ready to graduate and head off to College, I know for the first time, it will not be easy being his mom. Because I’m going to miss him. I’m going to miss everything about him. He is so kind, and so thoughtful. When he’s away at a camping trip with the Scouts, he never forgets to send me a “goodnight mom” text. Without being asked, he brings up the laundry, grabs a roll of paper towels, if he sees there’s just a few left on the roll. He helps his grandmother to and from the house. He never needs to be told. He just does it.
And now, my boy is 18. And it’s his time to grow, to spread his wings and show the world what he’s capable of.
I’m proud to be his mom. He’s made it so easy.
According to Dolly 
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