Happy Birthday, Grant!

 

 

Thirteen years ago, I was pregnant. I was only 27 weeks preggers with my first little bambino. All of the books said that he'd come at 30 weeks. So, that's what I believed would happen. (Of course, all of the books were correct at that point in my pre-parenting antics). However, after peeing myself repeatedly (this was pre-childbirth so it was not a routine part of life at that point), I phoned a friend. She laughing told me that my water had most likely broken and that I needed to call the midwife. Um.... I remember sort of trying to be in denial about the whole situation - especially since Eric was out of town. So, I called the midwife. She told me to take two Tylenol and get some rest and then meet her at the hospital the next morning. Seriously. That's what she said. I called Eric and he headed home.

 

After a rough night of sleep (the Tylenol was pointless), we headed to the hospital the next morning.

 

After a relatively easy labor, Grant's shoulders becoming stuck and having to be popped out of me, and me having to be put back together again like Humpty Dumpty, I was ready to go home. (I was so stupid to have gone with natural child birth. Who knew an epidural could be so wonderful)?

 

Grant was the first-born child and grandchild. He's always erred on the side of being spoiled rotten. I've had to repeatedly explain to my father that Grant cannot walk on water and does not need his every whim catered to. However, when I look back at what he's endured as a part of this nuthouse, he probably does deserve a little bit of spoiling.

 

I'm avoiding getting too emotional about the situation but, despite this really weird and stinky stage of life he's in, I couldn't ask for a more wonderful son. How many 13 year olds do you know who are capable of doing laundry, doing dishes, cutting grass, changing diapers, cooking dinner, babysitting a demanding toddler, and trying to protect his mama and sisters from all of the terrors of the world?

 

Like I said, if I dwelled too much on the sentimental side of this whole birthday thing, I'd end up as a babbling fool tonight. I'm just sticking with being a fool for now.

 

Good night, all.