Page 4

January 4

I don't know how many of you have witnessed a live birth. I've witnessed two.

People say birth is beautiful. This is a myth spread by nutcase hippies who work in independent birthing centers and INSIST the ONLY way to raise a kid is on cloth diapers and fed by the breast until they are 4. I’m not knocking either of those things, but I appreciate people understanding that everyone’s situation is unique and there are many ways to raise a child.

My wife, Dede, is absolutely beautiful. Stunning, in fact. The act of my wife giving birth is absolutely, positively not beautiful. I love you, my heart.

Gavin was born sometime after 7 am on January 4, 2007. I know it was a little after 7 am because all hell broke loose after the morning shift change. Dede was having a rough labor, but the overnight nurses were fine to just let things progress and try to keep her as comfortable as possible without an epidural (the anesthesiologist on call the night before thought her white blood cell count was a little too high to have an epidural).

But the morning nurses showed up that day with the mindset that they were there to work, and that baby was coming out soon. We went from lights-off-peaceful-pain to lights-on-all-out-fury-pain with the simple flicking of a switch. These nurses were way too cheerful for me after being up all night, so that made them definitely way too cheerful for Dede in her condition.

Dede picked a word she liked that day (let’s say it was “Cantaloupe” for storytelling purposes) and said it repeatedly for the next several minutes. I was relieved that the doctor on call was our own doctor (Dr. P) therefore I could spare explaining later that my wife was a very sweet person who actually has a rather impressive vocabulary. He already knew this, despite her sticking to one particular word for a very long time.

There was a little bit of stress mid-delivery that resulted in a yelling match between Dr. P and Dede.

Dr. P: PUSH NOW, GO, GO, GO!

Dede: CANTALOUPE!

Dr. P: YOU GOTTA GO, DEDE!

Dede: CANTALOUPE!

It turns out the umbilical cord wasn’t in the greatest place at that point. But that little boy came out completely healthy and five minutes later after a quick cleanup was the point at which birth was beautiful.

Today we celebrated that young man’s seventh birthday. He had a great day that has already been thoroughly documented via Facebook. So in honor of Gavin’s 7^th birthday, I thought I’d share 7 things I have learned since becoming a parent:

1. There are things you will disagree with your spouse on when raising children. That’s okay. Rock/paper/scissors and make a decision. Get this method of arbitration in writing beforehand.
2. Even if you are disgusted by vomit, you will let your kids vomit on you when necessary. One of the first times Gavin was old enough to know to try to throw up in the toilet, he was so terrified to do it. I picked him up to comfort him and that immediately calmed him, which led to vomit all over me. I didn’t even shriek like a girl. I shrieked like a man.
3. You set bad examples for your kids all the time and need to work to overcome it. “Bode, you shouldn’t eat pizza for breakfast. Sorry, let me wipe this grease off my face and then I’ll get you some cereal.”
4. You get sick of people telling you how great your kids are and that they’ve never seen them cry. Please, come spend 24 hours in my house. Or you know what? Just take them to your house.
5. It is very hard to poop while wearing cowboy boots. I didn’t learn this because I’m a parent, but I have learned it since I’ve become a parent so it counts.
6. They sometimes do things that are very naughty, but you find yourself biting your tongue not to laugh out loud at the same time. No explanation necessary – y’all know what I’m talking about.
7. You love them more than anything in the world – even more than your fountain pop Coke.

Happy birthday, Gavin! I love you more than words can know.