Bea is one.
One year of Bea.
I find this hard to believe. It seems like yesterday Nona and I were walking up and down the sidewalk as wonky, humid weather made her contract like crazy. Not all that long ago when I got the call at work... "I think my water broke?"
I still remember clearly the doctors and nurses amazement as Bea flipped from breach position to head down "normal" position. The doctor's pronouncement that if we were going to induce, we should do it now before she changed her mind and decided to go breach again...
I remember wondering who she would be. What would her name be? Beatrice? Alice? Greta? Gralice?
I also remember looking into her little freshly opened eyes and hearing a voice in my head say, "There's my Beatrice."
She's such a Bea. Or Beezy. Or "The Beez". Or Beezer. Or Beatrice Anne.
She wears them all so well.
At the same time, it feels like she's always been a part of this family. I cannot imagine life without her.
She has rhythm, and dances without fail whenever The Oblivions come on. Bea seems to like her dads style of music - a major coup for me. Both my daughters seem (so far) to share my musical taste. She tried to sing the Immigrant's Song by Zep by the time she was 6 months old.
She's been a major pain in the ass.
She's an amazing, perfect blessing.
I hope I can do her justice as a father. It's seems to go so much faster with a second child. It's no less special, however. I can recall with crystal clarity when she said her first word. How she started reaching for her big sister the first day she came home. Crawling, cruising, her delighted face as she figures out those little baby mysteries of life...
She is wonderful, bright, cheerful (mostly), curious - oh so curious - and absolutely delightful.
Again, I hope I can be the father she deserves and honored that I get the chance to try and do right by not one but two brilliant little girls.
End sappy transmission.
I find this hard to believe. It seems like yesterday Nona and I were walking up and down the sidewalk as wonky, humid weather made her contract like crazy. Not all that long ago when I got the call at work... "I think my water broke?"
I still remember clearly the doctors and nurses amazement as Bea flipped from breach position to head down "normal" position. The doctor's pronouncement that if we were going to induce, we should do it now before she changed her mind and decided to go breach again...
I remember wondering who she would be. What would her name be? Beatrice? Alice? Greta? Gralice?
I also remember looking into her little freshly opened eyes and hearing a voice in my head say, "There's my Beatrice."
She's such a Bea. Or Beezy. Or "The Beez". Or Beezer. Or Beatrice Anne.
She wears them all so well.
At the same time, it feels like she's always been a part of this family. I cannot imagine life without her.
She has rhythm, and dances without fail whenever The Oblivions come on. Bea seems to like her dads style of music - a major coup for me. Both my daughters seem (so far) to share my musical taste. She tried to sing the Immigrant's Song by Zep by the time she was 6 months old.
She's been a major pain in the ass.
She's an amazing, perfect blessing.
I hope I can do her justice as a father. It's seems to go so much faster with a second child. It's no less special, however. I can recall with crystal clarity when she said her first word. How she started reaching for her big sister the first day she came home. Crawling, cruising, her delighted face as she figures out those little baby mysteries of life...
She is wonderful, bright, cheerful (mostly), curious - oh so curious - and absolutely delightful.
Again, I hope I can be the father she deserves and honored that I get the chance to try and do right by not one but two brilliant little girls.
End sappy transmission.