They say that you can't pick your family. I don't agree. I'm pretty lucky because my mom and dad rock and could not be more loving and supportive. Ok, they hated the nipple piercing and the mohawks and the bald head and the car crash with the Firebird. But they loved me, and for that I am thankful.
When Andrea was pregnant I would talk to her stomach every time I saw her. She and I were friendly, but I was a weird little tenant with bad hair and a nose ring and she was the building director in this strange land where I had landed, and this was before, shall I say, we fell head over heels for each other. I spoke with her lump, telling him I was waiting and that I had plans for us. Fun plans! Adventures and he had better finish cooking and come out to see me. The first time I held him, my arms ached from the stress of holding so still as he slept in my arms. The first time I held him, he looked at me with his giant head and smiled as he fell asleep.
I believe I have known him forever; lifetime after lifetime. We have been known to show up to the same social occasions wearing the same outfit. We love Star Wars and legos, torturing Andrea and water fights with the hose that reduce both of us to our underwear on her front lawn. We love to wear underwear on our heads; well not so much anymore. He is growing up and he has other friends. But as much as I long for the time when I was THE AMY, I am filled with pride and excitement for what he has become and is the process of becoming.
Posted by Amy
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