One year ago, today, Tash and I were not prepared. We were ready for our baby to be here, no doubt, but the thought of having a baby in our arms later in the evening of May 4th, 2012, as we were loading in the van to head to an ultrasound appointment that morning, was the furthest thing from our minds. Tash was slightly overdue and was not feeling the greatest. She was in great spirits and enjoyed being able to look at the equivalent of a submarine radar screen during these appointments. I had become accustomed to seeing these images at the ultrasound appointments with her and had pretty much figured out what is what. After sitting down in the ultrasound room, the nurse (one that seemed agitated that Tash was wanting this pregnancy/labor to progress naturally) came up with one of the weirdest excuses to speak to the doctor on call about Tash’s “progress”. According to Susie PersnicketyShoes, the ultrasound showed that the amniotic sack was “cloudy”. Um… okay. So she bolts out of the room only to return shortly after she left (and by shortly, I mean about 35 minutes). “The doctor says it’s time to go be admitted. Um… Say what?
Fast forward about 15 hours and Little Man was born! We had already planned to give him a bit of a geek tribute with his name (his middle name is Kirk after all). So I decided to do a little photo tribute to the day he was born (which will be after the next paragraph or two). What have I learned over the passed year about being a father for the fourth time? A whole hell of a lot. With my first 3, I was working in an office away from home when they were this age. From birth to 1, I would spend most of my time during the week interacting with people that needed me for “this”, or wanted me to do “that”. I would come home in the evenings and love on my babies. There were a few times early on when I was working 2 jobs so I would have a total of about 30 minutes during the week in between jobs to see my daughter. My wife would be home with the kiddos during the day and she really had a chance to watch them grow, find out what made them giggle and snort and generally just see their personality grow over that first year. This time though, things are a tad different. I’m self employed and working from a home office now. My wife works part time (though sometimes, it really is full time) at our older 3 children’s school. Little Man sits with me in the office as I’ve MacGuyver’d barricades to the living room and kitchen. More often than not, he’ll be in my lap or pulling me out of my chair to play with his toy kitchen or his blocks. He’s walking now too, so he likes walking down the hallway, turning to look at me as if to say “You have NO idea what I’m about to get into… you probably should follow me”. Of course I follow. But now I’m getting to see what I missed out on with my first three. I’m getting to be there as he discovers his favorite toy and exposing him to my personality and love for geeky things (the kid LOVES the sound of the TARDIS… parenting WIN).
That’s not to say that Tash isn’t a huge part of the process with him. While he likes sitting on my lap or calling “Da Da”… there’s just no substitute for spending time with Ma Ma. The way he looks at her, the way he cuddles up to her when he’s hurt… melts my heart. I know that this is the last child we’re having, and even though we thought we were done with #3, having #4 has truly brought balance. Maybe not to the Force, but definitely to our family. Happy Birthday, Son. All I ask is, if we ever get into an argument, don’t challenge me to a sword fight and cut off my hand. I’ll totally let Granddad shoot electricity out of his hands at you!
Chronicled Journey of May 4, 2012:
Happy Birthday, Son.