No. 176: Small Stuff

ANTHONY THOMAS ARMISTEAD 

Here's a quick one of Anthony Thomas, my first grandchild, on his fourth day breathing air.
He's gonna be at Thanksgiving dinner, even though his first holiday was supposed to be Christmas.
The name on his little (5.5 lbs, 18.5 inches) self said "Wills" for the first three days. It became "Armistead" as soon as his dad Keith inked the birth certificate on Friday.

Anthony's premature arrival was anything but quick and easy.
My first-born daughter Kara went to the hospital (for the third or fourth time) at about 4 p.m. on Election Day 2012, Nov. 6.  He had tried three previous escape attempts but when it got down to it, he stayed put. Anthony was delivered by emergency caesarean section one day into Barack Obama's second term,  2:54 p.m. Nov. 7.
Mom and baby could take no more.
Twelve minutes and it was over.

 

That sure was a long stretch of hours. I was working the election overnight in The Vindicator's newsroom and the only news I cared about was the baby.
A lot of the next sleepy day is a blur, spent balled up in a hard hospital chair with a hoodie over my face.
I had to make a fast U-turn 85 mph down Ohio Route 11 back to the hospital after going home to let out the dogs, but I was there when a nurse came into the hallway and proclaimed, "Baby's out!" and gave a quick thumbs-up.
We were relieved when we saw his moving, pink self being rushed down the hallway in a little plastic cart. I heard him wail.

Wide-eyed at the world

His arrival met a politically divided nation, an attack by Iran on a U.S. drone "minding its own business," Honey Boo-Boo, zombies on television and Mayan predictions about our demise.
Heavy agendas, and I am a worrier. Loved ones and friends will tell you that I irritate them, and cause myself undue stress.
But I think Anthony will be good for me, helping me to let go of the things that I can't control -- and to accept things as they are.
What happens, is.

Pop the cap.

Babies, it turns out, are tough to draw. There's just not much there yet.
He will quickly change, I am sure, as he soaks in life.
Anthony will absorb a lot as he grows.
I'll play him music, read to him, let him splash paint on tables and walls, break crayons and grind them into the floor, get muddy, play with frogs and fish, watch trains and planes.

He'll have a dog, no question about that. It'll be good for his soul and payback for all of the creatures Kara has brought home to me.
We'll be into trouble and out again. Sometimes we won't tell anyone. My grandfather and I were like that, a lot.
Wrinkles and stains are no big deal.

The Trouble Boys

Miracles happen. I believe they will keep happening for Anthony.
He's a blessing.
Everything else is small potatoes.

There, there.

"See, this is the big change: You three are a unit now, a family, a team. I went to work today because of that. 'They're big people, adults. This is their thing to figure out and handle.' We can all help. But really it's the three of you now against the world. That's how it goes and it eventually clicks. Write that down."