Two years. It’s been two years since I slept in. Two years since I started buying diapers. For two years, I’ve spent the bulk of my mornings and evenings figuring out how things work, finally getting it, only to have it change without warning. Two years ago, I held my breath silently as a team of physicians worked quickly and quietly to help my daughter breathe into life. Two years ago, my own lungs burned as I raced up the hill from work on my bike to take my wife to the hospital. For two years, I haven’t walked down the hall without thinking that the squeaky floor might wake her up,
even though she sleeps through thunderstorms. The lamp at the end of the hall hasn’t been turned off in two years. Two years of laughter, crying, joy, and tantrums. Two years of Sesame Street and Yo Gabba Gabba and a host of other shows (but not Caillou or Barney). For two years, I wake up in the middle of the night and pray that she’s alright. Two years ago, my life changed.
IvyCat was born two years ago and as hard as that is to believe, it’s even more difficult to imagine time without her. She’s such a big girl now, and yet, still a little girl. She wants to be independent, but still wants to be carried down the stairs sometimes. She’s stubborn as a mule when she wants her way, but her silly laugh and glance from the corner of her eye will make you melt. Watching her grow is the most fun I can have as a parent. And though she tries my patience sometimes, she still is an amazing tiny human.
I knew she was going to be special because she was born on Star Wars Day (May the Fourth be with you!) and the Red Sox beat the Yankees in their new stadium. Two years later, I know she is special because I’m her daddy and every moment I spend with her is a good part of my life. Even the tantrums.
See you in the funny papers!