The Drake Equation

Today our little man turns 8.  In some ways it honestly feels much longer than 8 years.  In other ways I can't believe it's already been 8!  I remember my first day with Drake.  You go to the hospital to have your second (or 3rd, or 4th...) and after the baby is born and everyone fights over holding him and commenting on his hair or color or who he looks like, they all disappear.  *Crickets chirping*   Even the hospital staff.  It is almost as if they are thinking, "She's done this before, she won't need anything, lets go help the brand new mommy in room 3".  At one point I gave up on the nurse call button and roamed the halls in my rear a/c fashion gown (fairly certain ass chaps would have covered more) in search of water with ice.  Needless to say I had a lot of one on one time with him.  I couldn't stop staring at him or smoothing my hand over his head, or snuggling and smooching him.

I had been so worried before he was born that I wouldn't be able to love him the way I loved Robby.  How could you possibly be able to?  But when I held him and we were all alone, I felt like the Grinch.  My heart swelled and I realized how ridiculous I had been.  The love I had wasn't going to be split between the two, it doubles and triples.  I was so overwhelmed with just how magical and special he was to me.  He was mine.  And I didn't have to share him, with anyone, until the next day.  I remember saying to him, "Where have you been all my life?  I have been waiting for you."  I still say that to him, to both the boys.

I got to be Drake's Mommy.  I realize that just the thought terrifies some of you when you imagine being in my shoes.  But the rewards are never ending and I wouldn't trade places with anyone else.  Not ever.

Olfactory Jogs

We went to Seaside, OR this weekend to see our oldest son, Ryan. Saturday night the Boblings stayed with Summer and Grandma Marie while Bob and I went out with Ryan and Rhonda to meet his friends and other family. I met a gentleman (my newest long lost son...lol) that was smoking a cigar and while I know that many of you are groaning right now, I was very pleased to be standing down wind of him.

We were in the middle of a conversation when all of a sudden I caught the smell of his cigar and I was immediately transported back to being a kid. Summer mornings in Simi Valley, CA, visiting my Aunt, Uncle and cousins. They all were late sleepers except for my Uncle and, to his great annoyance, myself. = ] To say that he is a man of ritual would be an understatement so having a garrulous 5-year old niece to entertain was very inconvenient.

As I said, he would get up much earlier than the rest of his family, go to the front door to grab his weekend paper, pour himself a large glass of orange juice then take himself out to the poolside patio to begin his day. Can you see him? Cigar lit, paper open? Soft, warm breeze? Quiet? ... Now picture him turning the page of his newspaper only to discover a mite sitting across from him, staring; just staring.

Uncle: "Where is your Mom?"
Mite: "Sleeping"
Uncle: "Is anyone else up?"
Mite: "No."
Uncle: "Are you just going to sit there?"
Mite: (shrugs shoulders)

Uncle goes back to his paper in the hopes that Mite will disappear as quietly as she appeared. Mite doesn't move, just waits.

Uncle: "Do you want some orange juice?"
Mite: "No"
Uncle: (Sigh)

Uncle goes back to his paper but is no longer reading, he now using it as a shield between himself and Mite.

Uncle: "Do you want to swim with me?"
Mite: "Sure"

This is when we would get in the pool and swim. I would like to say that I did laps with my Uncle but he was much too fast and the pool was much too small. Plus, he was using our swim time as a way to distract me so following him would probably have driven him over the edge. After about 10 minutes he would get out of the pool and grab me a towel, wrap me up in it and then send me off in the house to go get dried off. Of course this would lead to my parents waking up, no 5 year old is going to go in from the pool and quietly change. I JUST WENT SWIMMING!!! So Uncle's problem would be inside for quite sometime and the rest of the house would wake up and start to bustle thus buying him more solitude.

I supposed we had our own ritual although "Mite" didn't remain the silent stalker very often. More times than not I would prattle until his eyes crossed which meant that we just swam much sooner. = ]

All this from the mere whiff of a cigar. It really did put an impish smile on my face.