Today, the youngest turned 12…
Naturally, the birth involved going to the hospital in the wee hours of the morning. His father always had to park the minivan in the garage. We had a long, narrow, not-quite straight driveway, made even narrower by the placement of hydrangea bushes and box hedge right along the house. I was usually the one who drove the van, (he commuted to work via train) so he wasn’t as “practiced” at the awkward angles of backing out. He had to pull forward three or four times to get past the box woods, and just as he cleared them, I heard a horrible noise that made me shout “stop!”
A drunk driver did a donut in the road and crashed right in front of our driveway, blocking us in.
We had to pull across our front yard into the neighbor’s driveway to get out, and the driver of the other vehicle, who was not hurt, fled on foot.
After that, things were relatively uneventful. The hardest part of the delivery was the epidural, which painfully took multiple attempts to get in.
The Tampa Bay Buccaneers won the Super Bowl later that day. I had my tie-breaker baby: third child, second boy, second blonde. (His older sister’s hair has darkened to light reddish brown these days.)
I named him in honor of my great grandfather, who was on the planet until my final year of college. The funny thing is, he looks a lot like Grandad. And he has many of his mannerisms.
In one more year, all three of my children will be teenagers. What was I saying about time just yesterday? Enjoy it, it goes fast.