Adam

Born: November 4, 1979 9:41PM

When we had our second child we were old pros at parenting. Kelly was a month short of three years old, and we had seen it all (yeah right). Adam was born on the day that militants seized the US embassy in Tehran, Iran. It was a Sunday, and the ex and I had just returned from shopping. I had just sat down with some cold chicken and beer to watch the Vikings football game. A couple of plays and about two bites of chicken later, and from the bedroom I hear, "...my water just broke!" Well so much for a quiet evening at home, call the mother-in-law to come watch Kelly, call the neighbors to watch Kelly until mom gets here and off to the hospital. Things went a little easier, and a little faster with Adam than they did with Kelly, but that's typical for a second birth. Again we were graced with a healthy baby, everything accounted for and in its proper place. A son!!! Now I was truly master of all that I surveyed. I had a bright beautiful three year old daughter at home, and now a son, an heir to my great and vast empire. Well maybe not an empire, but a son none the less. By the way the Vikings lost their game to the St. Louis Cardinals 37-7, so I guess I didn't miss much.

So I was a little less scarred this time, having some experience in babies. I was none the less awe stuck a the miracle of birth, and how lucky we were again. Adam was so beautiful and healthy, just like his sister. They were exactly the same birth weight and only a half inch different in length. I had a son, I couldn't wait to tell my dad. When I called him and gave him the news, I could tell he was floating in mid-air just like me. There were so many things I wanted to do with him, so much I wanted to tell him. That would have to wait for a while, right now he could care less. I felt very fulfilled as a man, I had two children a daughter and a son. I couldn't want for much more. I worried about finances, my job security, the continuing health of my children and of course the state of the world he had been born in. But, I had a son, and things would take care of themselves.

I was looking forward to teaching my kids so much, about the world, how things worked, and especially how to play baseball. There were many things I felt I needed to do as a father: provide, protect, and teach. Both my ex and I had been teaching Kelly as much as she could take in, she really loved to sit with you and have you read to her, she just took it all in. Somehow with two kids, or maybe because I now had a son, the role of teacher seemed to be taking on a greater weight than it had before. And, strangely enough it seemed to me that one thing I must teach my kids was baseball. Maybe I felt baseball had so many life lessons to teach. Mostly I wanted to do for them what my dad was unable to do for me, play. My dad was a great teacher and provider, but I always wanted him to spend more time with me, especially playing and most of all to play ball with me. So, Kelly and Adam were going to learn to play ball come hell or high water. If you notice the both have picture galleries of their time playing America's game.

The coolest thing he did when we brought him home from the hospital was to pee all over his older sister. We were changing his diaper and Kelly had to climb up on the changing table to see what was going on, and he let her have it. He must have known about all the grief she was going to give him over the coming years. Kelly and Adam were very different, Kelly loved spending time with us, to have us hold her and read to her was an absolute delight to her. Adam had no time for such things he couldn't stay still, from the time he got up till his head hit the pillow at night, he was in constant motion. In fact the only time he wanted to be held was when he got sick. I don't tink he ever really learned to walk, once he gianed his balance (or sort of balance) he ran. He might start with one or two steps walking then it was off to the races. I don't know what the hurry was but he always seemed to be in a big rush. I worried for a while that he might have difficulty learn to speak. He seemed to be able to communicate to a degree but his sister always seemed to translate for him. There was no need to worry, he was learning and storing up all his knowledge for when he needed it. When he was pre-school age and we were trying to teach him to count to ten, he didn't seem to get it or really to care one way or the other. He might count, "One, two, five, three ...," he could care less or so it seemed. One weekend we were at my brother-in-law's place, they had been camping and he had a tent airing out in the back yard. Kelly was playing in the tent and Adam was running (imagine that) around the outside of the tent. He didn't know I was watching, as he was circling the tent he was counting his laps. He didn't miss a number, all the way up to twelve or thirteen, the little poop, he knew all along he just loved to mess with your mind.

Adam's Galleries

School Pics

Baseball

Karate