You Know You’re A Parent When…
You write a countdown letter to your newly born infant son...
Dear No. 3 Son,
It’s 11:47 p.m. HST on New Year’s Eve, 2011 and I’m writing this in the midst of a pink hospital overlooking much of Honolulu City and County.
|Can't a guy just get a little sleep around here?|
11:50: While things are rocking and rolling in downtown Waikiki, up here the corridors are empty, doors are closed and all is quiet at this medical behemoth. (This is the quietest New Year’s Eve I can ever remember – but your arrival makes it the most exciting, and one I will never forget.)
11:52: Sitting close to you – my sleeping nine-hour-old son – your mother and I whisper and glance over at a muted, five-hour-old cable rerun counting down to midnight at Times Square.
11:53: The moon is a bright, white half-smile in the clear dark sky. This I discover only because a nurse stops by to say we should open the window blinds and catch the upcoming fireworks show.
11:57: I open a bottle of contraband – justifying the scandalous breach in protocol by telling myself if there was ever a time to have a sip, just a sip, mind you of something that tastes suspiciously like champagne – it’s today, Dec. 31, your Birth Day.
00:03: Mama and I spend a few minutes counting our blessings that you and her are both well and that this C-section was the easiest of the three.
00:05: We raise our plastic glasses to the memory of Uncle Junior who died exactly twelve years before you were born. Your birth means December 31 won’t have to be a day reflecting on loss.
00:07: Grandma, Grandpa and Special Guest Star, Uncle Jerry, call to wish us a Happy New Year. (Grandma says there are three glasses with twelve grapes each for when we bring you home Monday – I’ll explain that particular family tradition once you’re old enough. It involves wearing a red shirt and jumping up and down twelve timesJ)
00:17: For about fifteen minutes, the entire sky – from Waikiki to Honolulu international Airport and beyond was filled with thousands of fireworks from hundreds of groups and families.
Wow, what a great show and a cool way to celebrate your birthday!
01:53: Mama is sleeping and I’m looking at an old friend, the hospital blue chair, the one that opens – somehow – to a single bed. The sky is clear again, and it’s time to go to bed, but I just wanted to say Happy New Year, son. May you dream big, live large and be the person you are meant to be.
|Happy New Year!|
P.S. Another silly reason Mama and I were happy to see you today… your timely arrival means we’ll get a tax break for 2011. (We promise to use the extra funds to pick out the finest diapers and wipes money can buy at CostcoJ)