My son was born ten years ago today. It was 2:11am in the morning when he came screaming into the world. He still wakes us in the middle of the night making noise. And he’s finally too big to crawl in bed with us. Someone has to leave the bed.
We sat in the hospital room on that cold day in 2003 we watched on the TV as Americans rolled into Baghdad and saw the statue of Saddam Hussein being pulled down. I bought a newspaper in the hospital gift shop with the headline: BAGHDAD! I still have it. I remember pondering our decision to have a child.
Immediately after 9/11 I didn’t think I could ever bring another human being into the world. It seemed as if our world was devolving into chaos. But three years later there was a semblance of normality and it was hard to forgo starting a family because of geopolitical turmoil. Then the US rolled over Iraq looking for oil after Mandy became pregnant with our first child.
I don’t regret starting a family. Occasionally I wonder what possessed us. Life would be much more straightforward without the stress of planning for my children’s future. But I can’t imagine life without them now.
Boone has been a joy these past ten years. He’s going to be smarter than either of his smart parents and probably taller, too. He’s good natured, with a big heart, and an unfathomable memory for facts and details. I love him for his quirks. I love him for who he is.
He’s started playing baseball. It’s interesting, me being the anti-organized sports scrooge that I am, and him actually enjoying a sport. But I’m glad he is enjoying it and will support him unconditionally as long as he is interested. Doesn’t mean I won’t try to get him to be more interested in climbing, biking and in running cross country. His elementary school now has a cross country team. I’m kinda stoked about that.