12!

12 years have passed since my little guy was born. 12 years since that long weekend in January when I went into the hospital to be induced on a Friday morning and Brock finally decided to join the party, just in time for the Super Bowl, on Sunday afternoon.

The time has flown by and while he isn't a little boy any more, there are still little boy things about him that make my heart soar. Like when he's tired and we are cozy on the couch. He will reach up and play with my hair, just like he did when he was little. Or when he'll asked to be tucked in to bed. It may be laziness on his part. His covers are always such a mess. But I'll take it. I'm sure by the time he's 16, he won't asked to be tucked in.

The little boy things are getting fewer and fewer. Now he's constantly texting or chatting online. Sometimes he puts on a bit of cologne. I once overheard a conversation with a friend and the two of them would make a sailor blush with all of their cussing.

No matter how old and how big, he will always be my Little Brockie Boy.