Sunday, March 20, 2016

1 Years Old, Happy Birthday

Dear MJ,

I never thought I'd be so happy. It sounds a little cheesy I know but I love watching you grow up. You are such a spunky baby. From the way you clap your hands when even the worst of singers begin to sing. I love the way you pout and puff your cheeks out when your face is resting.
Photo by Brenna Melanson Photography

This whole year you've been doing things on your own time. Literally from the first moment you were brought into the world. It began with you being born in the operating room. For what seemed like 5 minutes, we knew the doctors had you in their hands but we couldn't hear anything. My heart began pounding like a boxer on the heavy bag and your mother yelled out, "Why isn't the baby crying, why can't I hear my baby?" And like a prize fighter getting up off the mat and fighting back, you began screaming and kicking. We knew from that moment on knew you would always make us wait for you to do what was necessary.

As your first breaths turned into your first days, your bright eyes cast your inner light right to my heart. You didn't eat for almost 12 hours when you were in the hospital but you used a lot of that time to sleep. The nurses wouldn't have that. Over and over they told us to wake you up and feed you. MJ, you were oblivious to our wishes and you pushed back by keeping your mouth closed and spitting back any fluid that got past your lips. You liked being held in the Dads' Hands position and we began to see that spark in your eyes when music was on in the background.
Photo by Brenna Melanson Photography

As your first days turned into weeks, you continued to show that you knew what you wanted. Refusing to take a bottle for up to 12 hours was expected. Lord knows why we all tried to force a bottle on you when you knew mama was all you needed.In fact, watching people insist they could get you to take a bottle brought me back to thinking about your grandpa's (my dad) lesson about other people driving on the road. He used to say, "Make dem gwan (make them go or let them go)." My dad knew you couldn't force people to drive the way you wanted, so do what you are supposed to do and let others go and do whatever they please. True to what your grandpa always says, as you were good and ready to eat, you ate and ate and ate.

As your weeks turned into months you began sleeping with Zeebie for hours and hours. Your mother and I knew that you were special. The way your brother, Jackie, would make you smile, we knew you'd always love being entertained. You could watch Jackie run back and forth through the house for hours. As he began to slow down, you'd begin clapping and making noises of appreciation and your brother would get a second wind.


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Over these long 12 months, I've seen so many things that would make me a proud father but I really want to focus on just one. During the winter I was coaching basketball and I didn't really have much time to spend you. I made it a point to wake up early to be sure I could dress you. That way, the two of us could play each morning before the day got away from us. After all, I usually wouldn't see you awake until the next morning. So I had to make the best of the situation.

As the winter basketball season wore on I had also begun to get worn out with the long hours. What was really wearing me down (outside of the long hours) was not being able to spend time with you and your brother. I missed seeing you at the end of every day. I missed hearing you laugh. It hurt to hear about all the things you were doing for the first time and I wouldn't be able to see it until much, much later.

Just as the season was grinding me down to my most brittle point, you began waking up at 2am. I began waking up with you. After leaving you with your mother every day for the past 6 weeks, I didn't want to over burden your mother by waking up and tend to you. So you began to drink a bottle while I rocked you back to sleep. Meanwhile I slept on my feet from being overtired.

That all changed one night. You had woken up two times before our usual 2am standing bottle drinking time. Your mother had woken up and tended to you the previous two times. I had been so tired that I hadn't even heard you. But your mother couldn't stay up with you again so I got pushed out of bed.

Walking into your room I have to admit I was praying to every deity I'd ever heard of that you'd go back to sleep. The Greek god Morpheus let me down and I knew reaching into your crib that I had been wasting my prayers. I should have been praying for patience.

Looking down into your crib I saw the remnats of Hurricane Michaela. You had thrown Zeebie to the wayside, you had been pulling your hair so you looked as if you'd been electrocuted, and you had tears streaming down your face. I couldn't help but smile. You still looked so precious.

As I grabbed you from your crib, you smiled right at me. I wasn't sure what that was all about. But then, with your little hands, you grabbed both of my ears and pulled my face close to yours. I was surprised because I'd never seen you do that.

You opened your mouth and sucked on my nose. I laughed loud from deep down enough to make the dog check for intruders throughout the house. Pushing my face away from yours, you tilted your head back and let out a high pitched scream while bouncing your shoulders up and down.

Finally you looked at me. With a a little smirk on your face I read into what you wanted to say out loud if only you could speak, "Did you like that? Do it again dada!" Sleep and fatigue rolled off me like a barrel over a waterfall. I cackled again like a villain in the midst of taking over the world.

Just when I thought you were going to let me laugh by myself you answered with call of your own. It didn't take long for us to wake the rest of the house with our cackling.

Looking back at the night I realize that you knew what I needed, a delightful surprise. I love you for that. You know your dad so well and I hope you always continue surprise and inspire.


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You were born at 1:52pm on March 20, 2015. MJ, you came when you were good and ready. Not a moment too soon or a second too late. Continue to show us all that you know exactly what to do and when you need to do it. I can't wait to see all that you accomplish. You will have trials that test you. At times you'll want to give up. But I want you to realize you've already shown that you just need to trust yourself. Precious, make dem gwon. Do things when you're good ready.

Happy birthday precious. 




Luckiest Man Alive

I am the luckiest man alive. Kim is the best mother. When it comes to her children, there is nothing that she wouldn't do. Including planning her daughter's first birthday in the midst of the basketball season when her husband is often out of the house. 

I am the luckiest man alive because I've got great siblings who traveled far and wide to spend time with their niece. Whether it is making the flight from Puerto Rico or driving back and forth from Philly to take part in the events of a one year old birthday party. I am the luckiest man alive because I've got parents who make the one hundred mile journey to spend precious moments with their precious granddaughter. 

I'm the luckiest man alive. My in-laws have done more than I can give credit for and have always been there when Kim and I need them most. I am the luckiest man alive because my wife's siblings have made an effort to build relationships that go deeper than being called aunt and uncle.

I am the luckiest man alive because the friends we have. They aren't friends, they are as close as family. They have been there as soundboards to listen in on the frustrating times, scaffolds by helping out when we go on adventures, and they've even been babysitters when they want us to get out.

The saying, "It takes a village to raise a child," is widely known. Yet it is completely understated. It takes a the love of those around you to raise a child. And MJ is lucky to have the love and support of so many people.

Thank you so much for always being there for her, my family and myself.