"He's here," is what my brother's text message to me said.

I replied with, "Congrats, Daddy!"

"When are you getting here. Hurry up," he texted back.

"I have one more hour of work," I responded back.

When I got to the hospital room where my brother was waiting to show me his new son, I had no idea what was about to happen to me. But in the exact moment that my brother placed that tiny little 4lb 9 oz human being in my arms, I knew what it meant to fall completely in love at first sight.

Now, at almost 3 years old, he can be a little pain in the ass.


I cringed the day he learned the word "NO!" When the word "Why?" followed "NO!", I thought my head was going to spin from the 2076 times I heard "why" in one day. Then a couple of Sundays ago when I picked him up, I heard "Are we there yet?" over and over and over until I finally I said, "Hey! Do you want to go to Target and pick out a toy?" JUST TO MAKE IT STOP. (No, really. A Sunday trip to Target is our thing.) And when he is in a bad mood, woo boy, just don't look at him. (I learned that one quick!) He steals my things and never gets tired of playing hide and seek.

Yet, he could care less about things like how much I weigh or who I love or that his daddy and I have a very strained relationship right now. All he knows is that I am his "Apul" and I love him so very much. Therefore, I have made it my mission in life to spoil him rotten. I take this mission very seriously.

After a bad day, when I walk in the door, and hear, "APUL!!!," then see his smile when he runs into my arms, he makes all the bad of the day melt away.

And I am happy.