Even though this was my second child, I was almost as nervous this time around. Steve and I knew we were having a boy. I had just figured out the whole baby girl thing. Now I had to rethink it all to consider that this child would be of the male persuasion. Don't misunderstand. I was thrilled. Just a little nervous.
Not only did I know nothing about little boys, but people were quick to assure me that my son would most likely be a little terror. “Just wait!” they'd say with a malicious gleam in their eyes. “Boys are not like girls. He'll be a handful.”
It was true in a way. He was an armful, entering the world at 9 pounds 8 ounces. He didn't seem quite as fragile as my daughter had been. But then, maybe I was more sure of myself. Andy was a happy baby who quickly became a happy toddler, who became a trickster with a wicked sense of humor.
In spite of the numerous warnings related to baby boys, my son has always been a joy. Without him, I never would have made pinewood derby cars, attended Cub Scout jamborees, been a rock band mom, or become a King of the Hill fan. I probably wouldn't even know what a Pokemon is.
Shakespeare claimed that all the world is a stage, a concept few people have grasped as fully as Andy. He managed to steal the show on numerous occasions during church and school programs. He loved (make that loves) costumes and has plenty to choose from in his closet.
Andy is a musician (got that from Dad)
and an artist (which I like to think comes at least partly from me).
In fact, I think Andy is like me in a lot of respects. We are the dreamers of the family. The ones that hear a different drummer. I kind of like that about us.
In a previous post I mentioned that we have a picture of Mindy at church with Easter lilies on the day of her baptism. We also have one of Andy with poinsettias when he was baptised on Christmas day. To me it is the most important milestone in a life of many delightful milestones. And that's just so far.
Happy Birthday, Andy!
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