Is there anything like your firstborn? The one you have to experiment on so that when you have more children you'll sort of know what to do? The one you make most of the mistakes with -- and hope they'll forgive you for them?
The firstborn and the last born have a perk in common -- they get to be an only child for awhile. The firstborn gets undivided attention as a baby/toddler -- but probably doesn't remember it. The last gets to be alone after the others have gone off to college. The middle child? Sorry, Wesley-- but you're the only boy so that'll have to be your perk!
Shannon is the only one I gave birth to "naturally". I do not mean natural childbirth -- I mean without being cut open. I had no idea what I was doing and even less when she came home. No matter how many books you read, nothing prepares for you the real thing. She was due on March 18 -- and I was hoping for a St. Patrick's baby but Shannon had other plans and came 11 days early. Those first few weeks were filled with a baby who had her days and nights mixed up and a mother who was exhausted. But, eventually, it all came together -- and we all got sleep at the proper time.
She grew up to be a gregarious, horse-loving, volleyball-playing girl. She went off to college, met Greg and now they are in the middle of their first year of marriage. They say the first year is the hardest -- but sometimes you don't know that until you look back. And I wish her many years to look back on.
So, with love, I wish Shannon a very happy 24th birthday (a day early because of another out-of-town volleyball tournament with Carrie). Next year, she'll be 25 -- which is how old I was when I had her.
I love you, Shannon
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As an aspiring writer, I blog about whatever happens to move me at the moment -- though some posts contain serious content, my big-picture goal is to bring a little humor into an often humorless world! Welcome, y'all, and make yourself at home! Please make sure you update your bookmarks!
When you are offended at any man's fault, turn to yourself and study your own failings. Then you will forget your anger...Epictetus