Friday, December 05, 2008
18 YEARS AND COUNTING
On December 5, 1990, I was sitting at work waiting for the phone call, and I got it.
"My water broke, this is it! Meet me at the hospital!"
Kid number 2 was on the way. We knew it was a boy, the result of an ultrasound some months earlier. (All ultrasound babies look like Broderick Crawford.)
Like our first, he was HUGE. HUGER, even. So like our first he was a C-section.
He was also not well. At 11 pounds 4, his lungs weren't big enough to support his weight.
He spent a few weeks in the ICU and we waited, visited and laughed at his already odd stubborness.
If they put a cap on him in the incubator, he took it off. If they stuck a tube in his nose, he pulled it out.
They finally had to restrain his hands because he was defeating the purpose.
He got to come home a day or two before Chanukah that year. Still working on using his lungs, Brendan would frequently let out an audible gasp in the hospital that sounded like "Hiiiiii!" So we'd say "hi" back.
We got him home (after stopping by my dad's office to show him that Brendan had been sprung from stir) and a few minutes later Jan's mom Marilyn showed up to see him. He was sitting in a baby rocker in the middle of the living room. Marilyn leaned in, and said "Hi, Brendan!" And Brendan said, "HiiiiII!"
She damn near fainted. (We hadn't told her about the "hi" thing yet.)
Well, Brendan's been surprising us ever since. I'm not going to say that the last 18 years have been easy, for him or us, but we've raised one hell of an 18-year-old. He's never stopped being rebellious. We had to take him out of daycare when he was three after we were told he kept asking the teacher to "tell those babies to shut up." (He will NOT be having kids.) He has ADD that he will probably have to deal with for the rest of his life. On the plus side, he's never been in trouble. He has a sense of humor uniquely different but just as sharp as his brother, his mother and myself. He drives better than I do. He attends high school by computer now, and is hell bent to get his diploma and kiss the educational system goodbye. He's getting better grades than I ever did. We love him to death.
Happy birthday, dude.
Dad
On December 5, 1990, I was sitting at work waiting for the phone call, and I got it.
"My water broke, this is it! Meet me at the hospital!"
Kid number 2 was on the way. We knew it was a boy, the result of an ultrasound some months earlier. (All ultrasound babies look like Broderick Crawford.)
Like our first, he was HUGE. HUGER, even. So like our first he was a C-section.
He was also not well. At 11 pounds 4, his lungs weren't big enough to support his weight.
He spent a few weeks in the ICU and we waited, visited and laughed at his already odd stubborness.
If they put a cap on him in the incubator, he took it off. If they stuck a tube in his nose, he pulled it out.
They finally had to restrain his hands because he was defeating the purpose.
He got to come home a day or two before Chanukah that year. Still working on using his lungs, Brendan would frequently let out an audible gasp in the hospital that sounded like "Hiiiiii!" So we'd say "hi" back.
We got him home (after stopping by my dad's office to show him that Brendan had been sprung from stir) and a few minutes later Jan's mom Marilyn showed up to see him. He was sitting in a baby rocker in the middle of the living room. Marilyn leaned in, and said "Hi, Brendan!" And Brendan said, "HiiiiII!"
She damn near fainted. (We hadn't told her about the "hi" thing yet.)
Well, Brendan's been surprising us ever since. I'm not going to say that the last 18 years have been easy, for him or us, but we've raised one hell of an 18-year-old. He's never stopped being rebellious. We had to take him out of daycare when he was three after we were told he kept asking the teacher to "tell those babies to shut up." (He will NOT be having kids.) He has ADD that he will probably have to deal with for the rest of his life. On the plus side, he's never been in trouble. He has a sense of humor uniquely different but just as sharp as his brother, his mother and myself. He drives better than I do. He attends high school by computer now, and is hell bent to get his diploma and kiss the educational system goodbye. He's getting better grades than I ever did. We love him to death.
Happy birthday, dude.
Dad
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