Jake arrived on one of those days when you long for the cool breezes of Desert Center in August. It was a struggle for him and his momma and he came out blue. The nurse glanced at the doctor and said “This baby needs oxygen, right?” The doctor flashed her a look that said, Whaddyou? A maroon? (thanks Bugs) and then, with a wry, tired smile, using a calm and patient voice he said, “Yes, nurse, the baby needs oxygen”. I watched him turn from blue to pink. Just like one of those test strips. I can’t remember if the pink went from his head to his feet or the other way around.
Although, it's only been a week or so since then, he started 4th grade on July 5 and is nine-years-old going on mouthy teenager already. And being about as shy as a Mack truck, he pretty much knows everybody at the school, faculty and staff included. His school handball skills are legendary and he often arrives home filthy from sliding across the courts on his face to save the ball.
He's a generous boy with a big smile and a slow fuse (unless it involves the House Blond). He's respectful to his ninety-year-old great-grandmother and often sits with her talking quietly.
Despite his, er, ah, attention difficulties (Like Alvin, he don't hear well neither), just plain being all boy, and his dislexia/disgraphia he’s reading at mid 6th grade levels (Jake loves reading). His math and science skills are excellent. His computer skills are pretty advanced as well. Spelling and handwriting are tough but his vocabulary is amazing.
Had I realized how much of a blessing he was going to be, I'd have ordered him ten years sooner when I had more energy.
Happy Birthday Son.