|apple spice cake with cream cheese frosting|
25 years ago, I was thirty years old and about to have a baby boy. Imagine that. To every new parent I see with that unmistakable combined look of hair-trigger instinct to protect one's progeny and the irresistible need to share one's most prized possession...eff you all.
My child turns 25 this week, and I am celebrating every moment of the surprising, sometimes terrifying, mostly happy journey.
When you start out having kids, you think you know it all, but you've got a long way to go, baby. It is a journey and a process_a dance of individuation and control. There is no right way, no book way of raising kids. No perfect doctor, no perfect way to potty train, no perfect advice, no perfect school, no perfect family, and no religion that fixes the heart-stopping moments of parenting an infant, a toddler, a teenager, or a struggling young adult. There are no guarantees. Just a lot of love and pure luck.
Twenty-five years ago, on a starry indigo Spring-like Saturday evening in late January, our 8 pound 5 ounce, beautiful, red-faced, screaming baby boy came into the world. And, guess what? I did it without any drugs at all. I know it's uncouth to brag, but hey—you try delivering an eight and a half pound baby without any pain medication.
Why did I do that, you ask? I had an excellent Chinese nurse-midwife who walked me through it, and apparently, I have a cast-iron hoohah. Except for the screaming out-of-body experience in the middle, we all did okay. After we shared some birthday cake with our nurse, I walked his clear bassinet down the hallway to my room at Samuel Merritt Hospital and hopped into bed for a good night's sleep. We were all calm; we were all overjoyed. The next morning, we were all ready to go home and carry on.
And, now he is turning 25...Wait, wasn't I just 25?
This week, we say goodbye to our daughter who was here visiting from Denmark for three weeks. On the same day that her brother turns 25, she will board a flight to London where she will catch the last leg of her trip back to Copenhagen.
Henry Higgins said it best, "I'm so used to hear her say, 'Good morning,' ev'ryday...her joys, her woes her highs, her lows...I have grown accustomed to her face...her smiles, her frowns, her ups and her downs." We will miss our girl.
...And, we hope that she will move back to Cali soon.
It's hard to believe that one of my favorite months of the year is almost over. It has been wonderful having a full house these past three weeks.
Enjoy the last week & make it a good one! On to February... ❤