On March 27, 2000, I went to the doctor, for what I hoped would be my last visit. As with Number 1, I was late. Nine days at this point. Ryan, the boys dad, and Number One went with me. We traveled from our home in Tempe to East Mesa. During the visit, they told me that because my fluids were getting low, it was time for him to be born. I walked out to the waiting room, picked up Number One and said, "Let's go to the hospital. Your baby brother is coming tonight!" The lady sitting next to Ryan and Number One started to cry. She said to the young child that was with her that this was a happy moment and that she was glad she was witness to it. Luckily we picked out his name in a Target aisle the day before.
The night was long and went into the morning. Contractions were really strong, I broke down and got some meds. The nurse came in and checked me. She said that it was time to push. I started crying hysterically and I begged her not to make me. I wasn't ready for another baby. She looked at me, with laughter dancing on the corners of her mouth, from my eyes to my belly and back to my eyes and said, "I think it's a little late to make that decision. Now push." So I did.
Ten years later, this child has been trouble. Mouthy, opinionated, and the sunshine I seek when I am down. He loves me. He doesn't care who I am, he only cares that I am his mom. He's a funny kid, too. Doesn't think he likes veggies, but doesn't know he like them when I sneak them into things. He told me on Thursday morning that he wanted to open a vegan restaurant, where only vegans could eat because he was sick of places only catering to meat-eaters. When I pointed out that he can't change the world by separating himself, he said, "Good point. We will let a few meat-eaters in at a time."
He loves hip-hop. 104.7 and 101.5, to my chagrin, are his favorite stations. When he opened his iPod, he asked if it had music on it. Then he asked if I put Lady Gaga on it. Of course I did. Both albums. But I also added AC/DC, The Smiths, Lynard Skynard, Bitch and Animal, Bob Marley, Flogging Molly, and so many more bands and songwriters.
From Tris, he asked for a tool box, complete with hammer, nails, and screws and drivers. He wants to build things, like forts, with his bare hands. Number 2 is an amazing artists; he loves to draw so much that he gets in a bit if trouble from his teacher because he rushes his work so he can draw. He is a math genius. He reads Manga, chapter books, comics and every sign he sees. (I once had to explain what an adult store was. Now he looks to see how many cars are in the parking lot...) He has a sense of humor to rival the oldest of my friends, yet it's still young enough to make his own peers laugh.
He has always had his own style. He loves skate clothes. The child would squirm if I put him in pants that fit at the waist. He likes to wear the occasional dress or skirt. (Don't tell your kids if they go to school with him. He would be mortified!) He picked out his own ear buds to go with his new iPod today. Black and pink. Hot pink! We talked about cutting his hair on the way to Target today. His first haircut was a year and a half ago. He has rather long hair, but you wouldn't know it because it grows in tight ringlets. He said I could cut his bangs only to the maximum length allowed by the school. I told him it was negotiable, then Tris stepped in and said she liked his hair. Damn other parents! Haha!
So Happy Birthday Number 2!!!! I love you more than you might ever know!
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