Flashback Friday: Stealth Sister

It's that time of year again, my dad's birthday.  Last year I had a new baby as an excuse for failing at finding the perfect gift, so I wrote a wrapped a blog post in a shiny hat and called it a day.  

Shopping is a bit difficult when the recipient is that guy who needs nothing and buys himself that book/album/computer/car whenever the mood strikes.  Every holiday, anniversary and birthday is a stressful season as my we brainstorm gift ideas for weeks and months to choose the perfect present.  Keeping the final decision a secret is of utmost importance so that particular guy doesn't go and buy it for himself.  

Once upon a time, my mom, Mary and I went on a super stealth shopping trip.  We were going to buy my dad a bike.  It was pretty exciting for a seven-year-old and a three-year-old to be shopping for a grown-up bike.  We spent all night at the store asking the salesmen questions. My mom selected just the right one and gave us a speech about keeping such a special gift a secret.  

When we got home, my dad was peppering us with questions about our shopping excursion. Who, what, when, where, why.  "Did you buy me a present?"  I said, "I'm not supposed to tell." Mary leaned over and whispered to my dad, "Shh, don't tell, we bought you a bike!"  Because, of course she did.

First Birthday Blues

I've come to learn that first birthday parties are more for the parents than the child. It's no wonder that the internets and magazines and blogs are full of birthday party extravaganzas with high chair decorations and petting zoos and specialty cakes. As first time parents, we earned this party as much as Bennett did. I had to feed him every-other-hour for the first three months of his life. We survived ten months of middle of the night waking. We have had worry and doubt and stress for twelve straight months and hopefully a lifetime more.

I tried to keep this all in mind when I started thinking about Bennett's birthday bash. He would have no recollection of the festivities so it didn't matter if I skimped on cupcakes or favors or entertainment. We just wanted to gather with family to mark the end of our first chapter and celebrate the life of one very well-loved little boy. Well, it's a good thing he won't remember a thing because let's just say there were a few hiccups along the way.

Things weren't looking good when I called three stores looking for balloons. Bennett's Mimi got in the car and drove to the other side of town to be at the party store when they opened. All of this because Bennett I needed balloons. They. Were. Out. Of. Helium. A party store! Out. of. helium! Sheesh. Both grandmas, grandpa, Auntie Mary and I spent some quality time filling balloons with the helium tank we bought. Oh yes we did.

When the house was sufficiently filled with latex, we were able to sit back and enjoy a laid back and lovely afternoon. Several members of Rocky's family, my parents and sister, drove a few hours to join us at the King family farm for comfort food and present opening. When we gathered around to watch Bennett get excited over the paper and the bows and the trash, he didn't even care to pay the presents any attention. The boy lost it. He didn't like all of the attention and we had to excuse ourselves from the festivities.

After regrouping we sang Happy Birthday and waited for him to dive into the cake. He hesitated. I prompted him with a taste of frosting. He was having nothing to do with it. He turned his head. He whimpered. He was turning down his first taste of sugar with a no thank you. Everyone blamed it on the fact I had made a low-sugar vanilla cake. Even a couple of hours later when we tried the strawberry cake we served the guests, it was a big, uh-uh, no way, how dare you try to give me cake. I'll just take a cracker please. It makes me wonder how he could possibly be my son.

This year has been a learning process and a constant reminder that very little of anything in life is in my control. Very little goes ahead as planned. Every child is different. Balloons or presents or cake cannot make a kid happy. But celebrating this child and this year was worth whatever curve ball he could throw my way. But he better learn to like cake.

Flashback Friday: First Year

We must have taken a thousand pictures this year of a certain little boy.  At first we were taking pictures of his first sneeze, his first bath, his first hiccup.  We wanted to document each time he wore an outfit of mine, or the shirt with a monkey, or that funny looking hat.  We're not flashing back very far, but it's worth a second look, and maybe a third, fourth and fifth.  Let the film load before hitting play, would ya?

Happy Halloween!

Bennett came home from the hospital on Halloween last year. It was so exciting to have the neighbors bring their witches and goblins to the house and introduce our new little pumpkin. This year we are celebrating a little differently!

He looks pleased, no?

He could hardly believe it when Grandma said he could pick out his own candy.

Happy Halloween!

What We Learned: 12 months

Bennett learned to crawl.

We learned to never say never.

Bennett learned to walk.

We learned to value the camera.

Bennett learned to climb the stairs.

We learned it’s finally time to baby proof.

Bennett learned to say mom.

We learned about playing favorites.

Bennett learned that dog bowls make for great toys.

We learned that sometimes the house can be too quiet.

Bennett learned he loves string cheese, spaghetti, peas, yogurt, peaches, oranges and blueberries.

I learned I could breastfeed for twelve months.  And longer.

Bennett learned that daycare is his happy place.

We learned our son can be a leader and not a follower.

Bennett learned that two naps are for babies.

We learned that one month can bring a lot of change, a whole year even more and we have a whole life of learning ahead.

You've heard my version of Bennett's birth, it's time to hear Rocky's side of the story.  So, we're flashing back fifty-two whole weeks.  

October 29, 2010 was supposed to be a big day in my career. I was scheduled to present my first oral argument at the Richmond City Circuit Court, and as a person that had devoted the last five years of his life preparing to be a litigator from law school, to clerkship, to junior associate grunt, this was my moment to introduce myself to the bar. Needless to say, it was going to be a big day. And it was, but for an entirely different reason.

By October 28, 2010, Allison was pretty much done with the whole pregnancy-thing. She was tired, in pain and could not get comfortable regardless of what she tried. She fretted waiting two more weeks for the due date and seriously contemplated bribing our doctor to induce her. On that night, enduring yet another uncomfortable day, she made an impassioned plea to B.B. to make his appearance known. What did I do after witnessing my wife making such plea – I laughed at her and joked that she was going to deliver late and our baby was going to weigh over ten pounds. She did not find my joke funny.

Well as the night wore on, we got ready for bed and everything seemed fine. What I did not know, is that after Allison’s plea, B.B. apparently responded. Allison, at the time, was not sure if it was labor or another phantom contraction as she had been having fake ones for weeks. So she ignored it and went to bed. But she couldn’t sleep and eventually went downstairs. Four hours later, I went to the basement to check on her and found that she was pacing around and breathing pretty heavily. Odd, I thought to myself. Nonetheless, for whatever reason, Allison assured me that it was nothing big and that I should go back to bed. I happily listened to my wife and did.

I couldn’t sleep now. Her pacing and general facial expressions (I will spare you the details) led me to believe that this was more serious than false labor. So I went back downstairs and convinced her that she couldn’t take it anymore we should go to the hospital. Allison continued to pace and her breathing well sounded more like panting at this point. I remember poor Atticus kept walking right under Allison’s feet. He was concerned, you could tell, but my wife wanted no part of our furry companion.

Realizing that being in Richmond by 9 am was highly unlikely given the current state of affairs, I then began to frantically email every person under the sun letting them know that I could not make my court appearance. Surely by 3:30 am someone’s blackberry would be on and ringing.

 

At around 4:30 am, Allison called her mom and told her that we were going to the hospital. Kerry went straight to the airport and jumped on a flight right then from Nashville to DC in hopes of being with her daughter. When we got the hospital, I dropped Allison off and forgot about the emergency parking and drove to the parking lot, leaving my pregnant wife experiencing contractions in the waiting room alone. Smooth, I know.

We were one of the first couples there and Allison was tended to immediately. The doctor kindly informed her that she was in fact in labor and that it would not be long until it was show time. Amazingly, Kerry touched down an hour or so later and was able to catch a quick cab to the hospital.

Only a couple hours later at 11:26 am, B.B. entered this world. Our prayers were answered with the first cry he exhaled. He was simply a beautiful, healthy baby boy. As soon as he was born, Allison scooped him up and held on her chest. This is still one of my most vivid memories from the whole day and I luckily captured the second that B.B. looked up at his mom.

I asked Allison if she wanted to introduce B.B. to his grandmother. We were pretty certain Bennett was going to be his name but Allison had not yet firmly committed espousing that she needed to meet him first. I was a little concerned that due to her sleep deprived nature that she may be apt to blurt out some oddball name such as D’Rocklan, which was a favorite among my friends. Luckily, she kept her wits and introduced Bennett to his grandma Kerry. Later that day, my mom arrived and her met her grandson. Tears of joy for everyone it seemed.

October 29, 2010 was supposed to be a major day for me in my career as a lawyer – my first oral argument. It turned out that day was a major day in my life – the day I became a father. Every night since, I go to bed thanking God for the blessing of my family and for Bennett. This past year has been amazing to watch him grow but has also taught us how fleeting time is. In just one year, he has gone from our little baby to our little boy. He now wants to walk on his own, feed himself and dictate when he goes to bed.

Having Bennett in our lives has pretty much reframed our outlook on life. We left DC to come back to Tennessee, leaving truly amazing friends and great jobs, so Bennett could be closer to babysitters, err family. Every time we talk about the future now, we are inevitably discussing Bennett’s future, his college fund, and do we need to start saving for braces because he got his dad’s teeth. He is pretty much our world now and I do not think we would have it any other way. We don’t often hear anymore that someone was a God-send or our prayers were answered. Well Bennett is toddling proof that our prayers were indeed answered.

Happy Birthday Bennett! We love you very much.

Things I don't want to forget

This year has been full of precious memories that I sure as heck don't want to forget when we are celebrating the boy's sixth or seventh or fifty-fourth birthday.

The way he loves hanging out by the bathtub.  There are fabulous toys, like the rubber Dante and the shampoo bottle and tub stoppers and sharp metal door tracks.

The way his little face looks as he stands up all by himself, like "did you see what I just did?"

The way he waves at everyone and everything, from the grandma and grandpa to ceiling fans and squirrels.

His instinct to flirt.  I thought the bashful eye look was something you had to learn, but this kid was born with game.

His giggle as he notices Atticus waiting for dinnertime cast-offs.

His giggle when he sees me hide.

That time he ate an orange, peel and all.

That time he ate a lemon and threw it on the floor.

The way he closes his eyes and shakes his hands when he tastes something he does not like.

His hands searching for mine as he slides off my lap.

The first time he pointed at the moon.

The first time he pointed at a cow.

His mommy phase.  He reaches for strangers to hold him, but as soon as he's there, he can't wait to be back in my arms.