Middle Boy turned 16 yesterday. He went with some friends to Disney World, came home to some grilled steak and cupcakes.
He was my biggest baby, *cue nightmarish delivery story* 9 pounds, 11 ounces...and a couple of weeks early. He was my only child that had a "shoulder delivery" as well as a "head delivery"...my mother-in-law, standing at the foot of the bed during the delivery said: "You had a toddler!"
I had gone into the doctor's office for my checkup, and my blood pressure was through the roof (a common occurrence for me) and I was showing signs of preeclampsia. The doctor informed me that I wouldn't be going home at all that day, that a hospital bed had been saved for me, and to get my butt into it. I called hubby at work and said "You need to go home, pack my things, and meet me at the hospital." Of course, he thought I was kidding, poor guy. (I hadn't packed anything yet, wasn't anticipating having the baby early...oops.)
The doctor started the induction, and again, a phone call to hubby's office: "Really honey, you need to come now, he broke my water."
In hubby's defense, my first delivery started on a Friday morning with an induction, with the child finally being born on Sunday morning...so naturally, he's thinking (we both did) "I've got time.".
Turns out, he did have time. Time to go home and pack stuff...time to eat a couple of meals...time to wonder just how he was going to afford paying the college tuition for these kids....
And then, there Middle Boy was. He only required a small convention of doctors and cheerleaders, some help from a suction-thingy...and threats made to a mom (by a loving sister-in-law) who was so exhausted from delivering his huge head, she wanted to quit before his shoulders made it out.
This child is a blessing to me in every way. He is an athlete of the highest integrity, he works very hard in school and he's always wanting me to make him a sandwich.
I adore him.