At 5:10 pm on March 13, 2004, my giant 10-lb baby finally came into the world, cord wrapped around his neck and skin blue. It was not an auspicious start, but sixteen years later, Laurence is healthy and as happy as you can expect a hormone-addled teen to be.

He’s a huge fan of football, Marvel movies, video and phone games, necklaces, electricity schematics (yes), mock-drafts, role-playing games (especially creating his own), history, theatre (both acting and tech), and cheesy romantic comedies.

He’s not yet sure what he wants to do post-high school, and he’s intent on exploring many different career avenues in the meantime. Over the years, he’s explored the idea of being a dentist, a chef, an electrician, a musical theatre performer, a doctor, a sportscaster, a small business owner, and a few others that aren’t coming to mind at the moment. It changes about twice a year.

He prefers adults for company, especially older adults (we’re talking the 70+ age group), and dislikes the angst that is so prevalent among teens.

He also gets angsty himself whenever he doesn’t have a goal to work toward, or when he’s secretly not behaving the way he knows is right, or when he doesn’t get enough sleep. (Also, don’t joke with him in the mornings. He doesn’t truly wake up until noon, no matter how early he went to sleep. Even as a baby, he wanted to sleep in. He would cry through opening presents at Christmas if he got woken up too early.)

Laurence has always been his own person, an old soul. He’s my baby, and it’s been wonderful to see him grow all these years and to become more accepting of who he is. I look forward to the next few years of having him at home before he leaves to create a life of his own.

Happy 16th, Laurence!