Well, it's done. Jack is 12. Actually, I guess closer to 3:38 this afternoon he'll be 12. That's when he finally showed his face unto the world. I like to remind him on occasion that I pushed for almost 5 hours to get him here.
He owes me.
It was a long time. Just ask the man. And my poor mother who watched the whole thing. And with an epidural that only took to the right side of my body.
What is wrong with my body? Don't answer that.
He was the only one who came that way as well, the other three were ripped from my womb. It's important for people to know these facts.
Is it though?
Here are some other facts: I wanted to name him Jackson Jacob but after careful consideration I decided that if people called him JJ I might have to shoot myself. So then I decided I wanted Jackson Ryan but the man said that he couldn't have a son named Jack Ryan. Which doesn't make any sense because Jack Ryan is so cool. After I pushed him out, which took almost 5 hours by the way, I decided to drop the son and name him just Jack because Jack is what I really wanted anyway. The son part was just cool in the moment. I'm glad I did that because do you know how many Jacksons there are roaming the earth right now? Millions!
The man used that delicate moment when a woman has spent almost 5 hours pushing a child out of a hole the size of a softball. That moment where the drugs are in limbo, where the brain is foggy but awake, working but not really. That moment where the woman has been up all night in labour waiting for her world to change. That moment where she would do anything for a Whopper and a Diet Coke. The man chose that moment to tell her he wanted the middle name to be Wolfgang.
No, says the woman, people will mock him.
But....he may be my only son, says the man with a look of longing so sincere that only a heartless monster could deny him.
Jack Wolfgang. 7 pds, 13 ozs. He is proud of his name and so am I.
Back to Jack. He has an alter ego named Perry. Perry makes me laugh like I've never laughed before. Tears streaming down kind of guffawing. A can't get a grip on myself chortling that lingers to the point where we forget why we're laughing in the first place. Perry has a special voice. He is quick and witty and ready to entertain at the merest of beck and call.
I asked Jack if Perry could do an interview for my blog. He thought about it for awhile and then said no. So I asked Perry. Perry said yes. I knew he would. He's an attention seeker.
I can't wait until it happens. It'll be the funniest damn thing you've ever seen.
12 is a big year for boys in our church. They get the priesthood at this age which means they will have access to certain responsibilities they didn't have before. Like passing the sacrament in church. This is an exciting time for him and for me as his mother.
I am very proud of Jack. He is smart. He gets awards for stuff.
Don't ask me what this is for because I simply don't remember. I blame it on all the pushing I had to do to get his butt out of me.
He is amazing with little people. Kids love him, especially his cousins.
He is eager to be independent, to learn skills that will aid him. And for that I say hallelujah!
He is a good brother and a great son. He is obedient and honest. He tries so hard to please. He sets a good example to those around him. His friends love him and he's a great leader.
We love him too.
Happy birthday Jack.