Four years ago today, I pushed my very first baby into this world after 24 blissful hours of labor (no). When the nurse came to check on us a few hours later, I cried so hard that I scared everyone in the room. As it turns out, it’s not really possible to be awake for three days without a little hysteria. The same goes with parenting.
Just like last year, I am left without much to say beyond “Here we are” and “We’re doing the best we can.” Year three was good but hard. I expect nothing else for the coming year.
Waylon is a sensitive kid. If you google a checklist for what qualifies a Highly Sensitive Person, his face appears, crying over bees and the sound of a flushing toilet. He’s also an intense kid. So far this summer he’s used his time off to swim, pretend to be a space ranger, and play a little game called 900 Questions. Have you ever met a four-year-old? They are kind of like three-year-olds but louder. His redeeming qualities include impressive comedic timing and actually being great at Costco.
If I have any advice for new parents, it’s this: Expect nothing, assume nothing, and try not to drink too much in the evenings. Honestly sometimes the best thing to do for your child is take a deep breath and lie down in a dark room.
I will never forget that night in June; just past midnight, Austin at my side, our midwife whispering he’s almost here. It was the start of one of my greatest love stories. No matter how hard it is to have a one, two, three, four-year-old–I love Waylon in the most desperate kind of way. He is my heart, the best part of this wild and precious life.
Happy Birthday to my first, sweet, impossible boy. You are a treasure.
More birthday fun here.