He Ate My Heart

Today is the day. Seven years ago Harrison came to the world. Right now on that day, I was hugely pregnant, dropped Lily off at daycare and went shopping. I got my nails done, sparking the tradition of getting my nails done right before giving birth. I knew he was coming that day, but out of all 4 kids, that was the day I was most scared. After my first, Lily, I could not imagine being able to love another human THAT much again. It seemed impossible. I was terrified that it would be less somehow...that I could not be a good mother because I gave my heart and soul so completely to my firstborn. I remember the day VERY clearly....I made James meet me in our driveway so we could go to the Ground Round because I HAD to have their peach iced tea. I ordered steak tips and a salad with blue cheese dressing. Just before the food came, I told James that when the food came, he should eat FAST. The waitress was panicked by the fact that I was timing contractions and eating and not freaking out. She was not a good waitress to go into labor with. After getting to the hospital, I joked with my doctor (Dr. Sunshine...seriously. We were Beer, Grass and Sunshine) that I went into labor early because he was going on vacation the next day. An hour later, I was holding him. (I am leaving out the part where I was nearly struck down for having THAT foul a mouth in a catholic hospital) And he ate my heart. Here's to you, Harrison...I don't know anyone like you. You can't stop laughing, even when you are being scolded, or having a swimming lesson, or trying to ride a bike. You describe DNA to me, but can't manage to bus your own dishes, no matter how many times you get saddled with doing ALL the dishes. You are both a hard headed bull and my soft hearted little man. I love you.