October 20th, 2008


Monday, October 20

It's a gray day today...

Thirteen years ago today it was sunny... a nice day for "contractions".
This day is like no other for me.
Our first child... George Richard, was born this day (actually... it was dark out, so it was later in the day) and my world changed.
We didn't know if he was going to be... a "he" or a "she".
He would have been Emily Josephine (EmmJay) if things had ... come out differently. :)

~ wake up and ... spend the first ten minutes of my day wishing I could climb back in bed... :)
~ wake the boys... and get them sorted out for school.
~ smile at Zee as she slips back into bed... (she doesn't normally go to her office on M or Tu.)
~ shower, shave, dress (no tie!) and find my way to the office.
~ work... actually "work hard" today... (I try to minimize how often that happens)... conference call with my US Fed project... and get my Can Fed project closer to the Wednesday final draft deadline.
~ home soon... to bake a cake...
~ out to dinner... I'm guessing Geo will want to go to Mongolian Grill.
~ Cake and Heroes.
~ Oh wait... Geo is getting some cool new toys for his birthday... I bet we play with those after dinner. :)
~ I could give [ :: you :: ] a hug...

Birthday moments...
To a sweet boy, who can't help being fast friends with the people he meets... Happy birthday George.
My heart fills with love at the mere mention of your name.
I will love you forever...

Here's something from a long time ago... when our little guy was only five short years out of the gate.
And I know I've reposted it before... but today Geo becomes a teenager, so I'm bringing it back. :)
I call it "Georgie Sleeps"

When I met him, he was only eight and a half pounds.
The first thing he ever did was close his
inconceivably small hand around my baby finger.
As they closed that first time... his eyes opened.
While I know he could only see things a few inches away
I spoke to him...
and I swear he squeezed harder.

Nothing became one.
Cradle became crib.
The floor beside it,
my home away from home.
Sleep overcame me so often there,
as my arm hung from between the bars...
My index-finger a prized possession of a little hand.

Two vanished... so did three... and when
that was done school was ready to begin.
But days turn in to night and just as sure,
was the grip on two fingers... and we would sleep,
me fitfully on a cold carpet... he, content in his bunk bed.

Now, five years away from the starting gate,
it's my thumb.
He can hold on tight in the deepest of sleeps...
but last night... it slipped out...

... and then he held my hand.