Friday, August 31, 2012
It's kind of weird that the last time I posted, I loaded up a carload of boys and drove to Indianapolis for an NFL event. That was at the end of January. Now, it's the end of August, and last night I loaded up a carload of boys and drove to Indianapolis for an NFL event. This time it was just three, rather than five boys -- Jack, Charlie and a friend. I took them to their first-ever NFL game, Colts vs Bengals. It was a good night, and cooperative weather allowed for the ceiling and window of Lucas Oil Stadium to be open. Very cool.
On our drive home, which began shortly before midnight, Jack and Charlie realized we'd see the official start of their birth DAY. We counted down the seconds, just like New Year's Eve, and when the clock hit 12:00am, the boys breathed a big sigh: official teenagers. I, on the other hand, teared up. My boys. My first babies. How can they possibly be 13 years old? I clearly remember the night they were born -- hearing Jack fill his little lungs with his first breath and proceed to scream like crazy. My first thought? "I am not ready."
I also clearly remember a nurse bringing Jack to me the next morning. He'd had his first bath, and was tightly wrapped in a blanket. His shock of jet-black hair slicked down in a comb-over. So cute. I also vividly recall spending the first couple of days worrying about Charlie. My little Charlie, at just 4-lbs., 5oz. He was having trouble regulating his temperature, so they kept him in an isolette in the nursery. When he was finally able to join us, I couldn't get him to eat. One night, after they took Jack to join his brother, I lost it. I broke down into silent sobs and begged God to help Charlie. Eventually, Charlie began eating, and quickly caught up to Jack (a "whopping" 5-lbs., 9 oz.).
Such little guys, now growing into smart, funny, handsome young men.
Happy Birthday, Jack and Charlie. Enjoy being "official" teenagers now. Only please don't do all your growing up so quickly. It goes by much too fast as it is...