Now We are Seventeen

Blog soundtrack:



Seventeen years ago today, my son, Nathan, was born. His journey here was a struggle from conception (a year of trying and then two courses of fertility drugs) to delivery. He was two weeks overdue, so I went for an ultrasound on February 11th. The ultrasound tech asked, “Did you know that he’s breech and the cord is around his neck?” I answered, “No!” And, a c-section was scheduled for the very next day.

The night before he was born, I was scared out of my wits. My Mom had died two months earlier, and I thought, “I’m totally on my own here.” But, fortunately, from the minute I saw Nathan, I knew exactly what to do. Well, not exactly, because sometimes when it comes to parenthood, you just have to wing it!

This song always reminds me of when Nathan was an infant. It would come on the radio, once an hour it seemed then, and I would pick Nathan up in my arms. We’d then boogie around the kitchen together while I sang, “Finally you come along, the way I feel about you it just can't be wrong, if you only knew the way I feel about you, I just can't describe it oh no no…”

When I was one, I was your only one; I loved my bear and had no hair!



When I was two, my red sneaks I soon outgrew; once a learner’s permit driver no more, they’ll hang from my rearview mirror!



When I was three, I played baseball half-heartedly; while the sport I found lukewarm, I looked really cute in the uniform.



When I was four, what was not to adore? Like my Granddad did, I have those big blue eyes, and I am blessed to be like him as you always theorized.



When I was five, I needed Sponge Bob Square Pants to survive; now I only have a dim outlook when the Internet is down, and I cannot access Facebook.



When I was six, my blonde hair was deemed "lovely" by the critics. Back then my jacket was not so small, unlike now, where we buy clothes every three months at the mall.



When I was seven, my face was mightier than the pen. These days when I roll my eyes, you say, "That's really not so wise!"



When I was eight, I obviously thought green hair was great. Now, on some mornings when you drive me to school and I appear dead, it’s obvious that I don’t mind bedhead.



When I was nine, I thought hockey was very fine. For 13 years in hockey I did dwell, and I thank you for putting up with it and its oh so stinky smell!



When I was ten, I liked to doodle with your pens. Today, I still like to draw oodles, but would you please stop calling me by the nickname, “Doodles!”



When I was eleven, I won first place at the Science Fair again. I think in college I’ll study Marine Biology, but thank you for encouraging me to follow my love of History.



When I was twelve, I thought into Davy Crockett I should delve. When not sporting bedhead due to my evening nap, I now mostly wear my Littleton Hockey baseball cap.



When I was thirteen, I suddenly became very particular about my cuisine. I will eat cucumbers, peppers, and other vegetables of my choosing but, please, hold the dressing!



When I was fourteen, I would still allow you to hold me tight and let it be seen. I will hug and kiss you now, but only every now and then, prompting you to say, “Wow!”



When I was fifteen, I got a tad bit daring and put this hat on even though it was not my scene. I don’t understand your vintage clothes, but it’s something I would never oppose.



When I was sixteen, I grew to 6’2” due to all that protein. I’m now 6’3”, and I am proud to join the tall ranks of my Dad, Uncle Scott, Uncle Jack, and my Grandfather Richard, due to my family tree.



Now you are seventeen, and you are every parent’s dream. And, though I know you need me less, I hope you know you’re always welcome at this home address.



“Finally it has happened to me, right in front of my face, and I just cannot hide it,” you are a wonderful young man tonight, even if birthday cake you won’t bite, and I know you’re always going to do all right.

Happy birthday, Nathan. I love you so very much. ♥