This post is dedicated to my most avid reader- who also happens to be my stud muffin little brother. Brett is in the middle of finals, and this is an effort to boost his spirits and provide encouragement-all the way from Dallas! I thought I would take the time to write about this amazing young man, and the joy it has been watching him grow up. Brett, I am so very proud of you!
Brett entered the world on March 21, 1992. It has always been a joke in our family that Brett grew up with three mothers (Mom, Kim and Kelly). While I don’t remember too much from that first year, I do remember changing Brett’s diaper for the first time and getting peed on. He probably did it on purpose 🙂 After seven years of playing dress-up, buying Barbies and more impromtu dance performances than I care to admit, I can only imagine the joy Dad must have felt bringing home a boy.
While the majority of my diary entries during the first five years of Brett’s life were about how spoiled he was and how unfair my life became (and let’s be honest– some of that is true!), our relationship has blossomed over the past few years. There is something about leaving home that really puts everything into perspective. I watched Brett start off as an unsure junior high boy in band, and grow into a confident young man, who was captain of the tennis team and voted “Mr Back Pockets”. Brett finally started talking to girls (sorry Brett…), and has completely transformed during his freshman year at UT. While my heart was broken when he decided to be a Longhorn, I can happily say I have gotten over it. Austin is perfect for Brett, and I have watched his faith grow leaps and bounds over the past year. He is an encourager to his many friends, has the craziest sense of humor (sometimes only Kelly really gets it), and literally makes me bubble over with pride. Good luck on your finals sweet brother- you are amazing!!
Some of you may be wondering about the title of this post, “Little B”. Brett had the unfortunate experience of growing up with TWO older sisters. This means various forms of torture, including nick names that just stuck over the years. Some of my favorites include- “Little B”, “Baby Bertha”, and sometimes just “Boy”.