Tag Archives: Babies

Today is Miles’ birthday. He’s 0 years old.

Posted on September 21, 2011 | 2 comments

A personal note.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Congratulations to my amazing, my favorite daughter – I have just the one, but I’m nonetheless crazy about her. (You too, Son.) – and her wonderful husband. No simple explanation mark at the end of that first sentence can do the love, respect, the hopes and dreams I have for them justice. An already very clever, highly creative person, as I noted in a post 9 months ago, she has now successfully completed her most ambitious arts and crafts project to date, the making of a human being. Very well done. Now comes the hard part.

Yes, today, at 8:04 AM ET, my grandson, Miles, all 7lbs 10oz of him, gave up the security of my daughter’s womb to dive head first, literally, into the tough, relentlessly anxious, generally wonderful world of the “air-breathers,” aka you and me. He is now among us, and life, for not just my daughter and son-in-law, but for everyone Miles touches will never be the same.

(Have you ever noticed how we always give the weight of newborns when we introduce them? Maybe I should add my weight to the “About” tab of my blog. ..Maybe not.)

Despite Miles’ tumultuous transition – which culminated in his having been born only a scant 14 minutes after my daughter and son-in-law arrived at the hospital, Miles seems very cool about it all. Very poised, very collected. This bodes well for the future of civilization in which I am certain Miles will be a major player.

For the better part of 8 hours today, I hung out with the three of them, Miles and his parents, plus my wife and Miles’ other two grandparents watching him sleep and occasionally open his eyes and smile at us. I’m told he’s not really smiling, but probably has gas to which I reply, “Get lost. I know a smile when I seen one.”

By the way, did you know that “Miles” is an anagram for “smile”? I told you my daughter was clever, didn’t I? Madison Avenue’s best couldn’t have picked a better name for this kid if they had made it up from scratch.

The highlight of the day, other that just plain seeing Miles and my daughter – proof positive of how beautiful a woman can look without makeup – was watching my son-in-law change his son’s second diaper, a courageous act if ever there was one. It wasn’t easy and the results were a tad imperfect, but with encouragement from his wife and Miles’ grandparents, and under the supervision of one very experienced nurse, he got the job done. Good work. Between you and me, I’ve seen fewer people change all four tires and fuel-up their team car in less time, but then that’s NASCAR, a walk in the park compared to cleaning up what Miles did in his pants. Miles is staying on the 11th floor of the hospital. Even so, I’m fairly certain several pedestrians passed out on the sidewalk below during this particular pit stop.

And so tomorrow, Miles takes on day 2 of his life. With the same fearless verve and courage that will characterize his long and wondrous life, he’ll try to make sense out of everything, from how his part parts work to those noises everyone around him keeps making from their mouths. Go Miles! You can do this. How do I know? Because I had two of you once and look how great they turned out.

I love you. Happy birthday! Let’s do lunch, as soon as you can eat solid food.

-wf

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Posted in Babies, Life, Miles, Newborns

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My Daughter’s Expecting

Posted on March 9, 2011 | 3 comments

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

A baby. That’s what she’s expecting. My first grandchild. I’ve seen the ultrasounds and can say, objectively and unequivocally, that I have the best looking Grandfetus, ever.

My daughter, who is very bright, an accomplished poet and writer of stuff, is, with her husband’s assistance, in the process of her most ambitious, most creative arts and crafts project to date. She’s making a human. Way to go. When I was kid, I used to make model airplanes that actually flew, but this is way more impressive.

Meanwhile, my head’s being attacked by grandfatherly instincts which… I don’t know where they’re coming from, but they’re beginning to scare me. I fly occasionally on business and, lately, I’ve had trouble resisting the temptation to buy little baby t-shirts at the airports with the names of the cities where I’ve landed. I was thinking they would make for chit chat during play dates with other babies. I’m not sure about the other kids, but my grandchild will be able to talk at birth, like the E*TRADE baby, only more literate. (My son-in-law’s getting his Ph.D. in History. That should help.) Thank goodness I first got the idea landing in Charlotte where I decided not to buy one over concerns that a shirt with a person’s first name on it might confuse someone just learning his/her own.

When my kids were babies, I used to carry them around the house, walk around the mall, pointing at stuff, talking to them like they could understand everything I said. They would look at me and then at where I was pointing or what I was holding, occasionally making noises with their mouths that I was certain were words and sentences in the making. Every expression on their faces, and body language, became a meaningful, always highly intelligent and often humorous comment or suggestion. And then one day, in what seemed like no time at all, they started doing all the talking and teaching me things. As a new father, I thought it was the time of my life, until I realized how wonderfully interesting my kids were at every stage of their lives, even now. Maybe especially now.

Anyway, in a few months, if my daughter and son-in-law let me, I get to start all over, having really long conversations with my Granddaughter or –son. Doesn’t make any difference. We’re going to look at stuff, talk about business and politics, about building things, about the sky and about the birds and the squirrels on our deck. And she/he’ll sit next to me on the kitchen table while I write, giving me her/his critical advice. At first, the conversations will be pretty much one-sided until one day, soon enough, he/she’ll look at me, smile and say, “Hey. So what are we going to talk about today, Grandpa?” or, more likely, “I really don’t think you need the comma before that “too,” a pudgy little finger tapping my screen.

Now how cool is that?

-wf

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Posted in Babies, Family, Life, News, Pregnant

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