Today, is Son's 13th birthday. He is a handsome, fun-loving young man. He has always brought surprises to my life. Like the time he potty-trained himself. Or the time he and a friend poured oil all over my beautiful, white car. There has not been a dull moment with Son since the day he was born.
The day he was born, was a cold, rainy Saturday. I woke up at 5:15 AM very uncomfortable. I went out to the couch and realized that what I might be feeling was contractions (I never had them with Daughter). Foxy came out shortly afterward and I told him that I think he should get a watch. We tested them and they were like 6 minutes apart. So Foxy called the Doctor and he asked the standard questions because he wasn't my regular doctor, he was the one on call. Foxy told him that we were having contractions and that he was due today. So the doctor said, yes, come on in.
Daughter and Navy Daughter were with us, so Foxy called Mom. It took Mom a minute to realize that this was "The Call", so we got dressed and she came right over. The girls slept right through it.
Mom finally got there and we left. We drove from Monroe up to Kettering. Foxy took back roads because he knew "every fire and police station in between our house the hospital." I was having some major pains and told Foxy tearfully, "This better not be a false alarm!" We got there around 7:00 am and they put us in a room and I immediately requested an epidural. So the guy came in and gave me the meds and I felt much better. The doctor came in, popped my water and things progressed quickly. Mom and Dad brought the girls up to see us. They all went down for lunch and at 12:30 pm, Son came into the world at a whopping 10 pounds, 9 ounces and 21 inches long. He was beautiful and looked just like his Daddy (he still does).
The doctor told me he got bragging rights for delivering the biggest baby in the nursery. Mom got in to the elevator once, and there were two women talking about the big baby in the nursery. She told them that she was his grandma. He apparently was the talk of the floor that day. See, surprise!
He has a very special relationship with his grandparents. He is protective of his grandmother, always telling her that he is going to be the one to take care of her when he is older. When she had her hip surgery , he made me take him to the hospital everyday to see her. He just wanted to make sure she was okay.
The relationship with his grandfather is also special. When we told him that Dad had cancer, he took it in and within a week, started asking questions and even needed to spend a day with Dad. He wants my father to teach him to drive (HELP US!), and they are all the best of friends. Dad teaches him all the "bad" things that I have to correct in both of them and then go to a separate room and giggle about it. Don't you just hate that?