I went to bed the night before at 2:30 am with mild cramps. Not contractions, just small cramps, like you would get with your monthly. I woke up at 4 a.m. dreaming I was having contractions. Then I realized I WAS having contractions, and pretty hard ones. I ran to the bathroom to pee and realized from all of the blood in the toilet that it was time to go. My husband helped me pull on some sweats, we grabbed Big Brother, who was 2 at the time and I tried to walk to the car a few feet away, which was pretty difficult. At this point, I was basing everything on my first birth and was still thinking I had a good hour or 2 of this kind of labor. Had I known how close I was to delivering I would have stayed home and called the paramedics!
So, we head out of the driveway and my dear husband suddenly forgets which direction the hospital is and asks me how to get there. I am breathing and struggling to keep from screaming because I am really hurting and he finally heads out. I'm thinking he is gonna really kick it in gear and blast me to the hospital. No, that's not what happened. We get to the first stop light and he stops. I'm like, "What are you doing? Run the light! I'm in pain and this baby is coming! Run the light!" He goes, "No! Our license plate tags are expired and I might get pulled over!" to which I scream "RUN THE LIGHT!!!" So he cautiously goes through the light and proceeds at a very safe pace to the next light, which I scream at him to go through as he started to slow down, etc. etc., for about 4 miles. Meanwhile, my poor firstborn is sitting in his carseat wondering why mommy is freaking out and Daddy is lauging trying to keep him calm, which really irritated me, because he didn't explain what he was doing and I thought he was laughing at me! When I let him know what an ass he was being, he calmly explained what he was doing, but by then I didn't care because I could feel the baby coming and all the breathing in the world was NOT stopping him, which was freaking me out. I did not stay very calm or focused, I was completely panicked and waving my arms around in the air, screaming at my husband, "The baby is coming! He is coming right now! I can't stop him, he is coming right now!" My husband then starts freaking out. We are still driving and are about 3 miles from the hospital and my husband starts to slow down, then a cop pulled behind us. Hubby tries to wave him up along side of us, but cop was a little leery. Right then the baby pops out of my uterus and is squirming in my sweat pants. I'm telling my husband the baby is in my pants and he's looking at me like I'm psychotic. Finally, after what seemed like FOREVER, the policeman pulls up to my window. He looked young. Like 16 years old kind of young. I can only imagine how my face looked when I rolled down the window and bellowed "I just had a baby. It's in my pants!" He stared for a minute, stunned into silence, trying to take in the situation. Then he goes, "Ummm, okaaayyy." I repeated the phrase. He snapped to attention, says "Follow me!" and flipped on his sirens, then we all peeled out to the hospital which was just about 2 minutes away.
So that's how life with Little Man began. It has not changed much since. He is full of energy and life and loves to explore and find new ways to do things. He is curious and funny and smart and handsome and he does not slow down from the time he wakes up 'til the time he goes to bed. He is definitely all boy and an avid collector of all things Boy, like rocks and bugs and marbles and sticks and bottle caps and shells and bones and whatever else he thinks might be cool or useful someday.
He is my athlete. He is naturally gifted with his body and excels at every sport he tries because he so comfortable in his own skin and with his abilities. He's not afraid of much. He tries a lot of physical feats of strength and agility without fear of pain. His motto is "Pain is something you go through to get to the end result."
Even with his boyish mannerisms, he is the thoughtful one in my family. He tells me my hair looks pretty or how much he loves me, he has to have cuddle time every morning and every night. He is quick to say he is sorry when he has hurt someone and truly feels pained that someone else got hurt because of him. He loves deeply and shows it. He is kind to his friends and classmates and a natural leader.
He totally digs his red hair, and he digs the fact that girls dig his red hair. He is very fashion conscious and concerned about the right hair cut and nice looking clothes. Unless he is playing in the dirt, then it doesn't matter that he is wearing an army shirt with red shorts and cowboy boots. He tells me when my clothes don't look good on me or when he really likes what I am wearing. How nice to have a man in the house with an opinion about my wardrobe!
Little Man feels what he says and says what he feels. You definitely know when the kid is unhappy, because he will make sure everyone else in the house is unhappy too. He gets embarassed in public so he saves the meltdowns for home. And he can have a meltdown, let me tell ya! Un-freakin-believable! The good thing is he gets over his frustrations quickly and then he's back to happy Little Man.
He wants to be an anthropoligist when he grows up. Or a Rock Star. He's worried about his Big Brother being in the military because he knows that military guys sometimes get killed. Little Man looks like Opey from the Andy Griffith show. Maybe he'll follow in Ron Howard's foot steps and become a rich movie director. Whatever he does, I have no doubt it will be at a full-out, fast and furious, breakneck pace that will leave the rest of us standing there wondering what just flew by. Little Man lives life in the fast lane and I can't imagine him any other way (Okay, that's not true. Some days I can imagine him being a little more relaxed, but how boring would it be to have 2 relaxed kids?).