My Naughty Little Boy!

I’m afraid my son may be a naughty one. . . 

Exhibit A: The first time I ever saw my son he was 11 weeks old. He was moving around so much they could hardly get a good measurement on him because he was shaking his arms and legs. He even did a flip in there!  Heartbeat was a speedy 184 that day due to all of his cardiovascular activity. I’ve decided this first impression could lead to one of two things.

1.       He will have hyperactivity disorder like his Grandpa John did as a child.

2.       He will be nationally ranked in vaulting/gymnastics like his Grandpa John was as a young man.

Either way, I’m blaming my dad for that one.

Exhibit B: All of the activity is NOT helping my ribs. After intense back and rib pain my physical therapist discovered one of my vertebrae is hypermobile and one of my ribs keeps popping out of place. These are in two different places of my back—lucky me! My rib dislocating was probably caused by the use of crutches over the summer. The fact that my rib refuses to stay in the right place is probably due to Poppy’s gymnastics. C’mon kid! I’m doing my best to make sure your ribs develop well. Could you do me a favor and look out for mine while you’re in there? Geez!

Exhibit C: You may note that I haven’t posted a picture of Poppy’s profile. That’s because he won’t show his face. In fact, we almost didn’t get to find out that he was a boy because he is breech. Now the doctors say he’ll probably flip by the time of delivery, but so far Poppy hasn’t seemed overly cooperative, so I’m not holding my breath. The ultrasound technician poked and prodded at him to show his face. He turned and faced my spine. She poked and prodded him again. He turned to face us—and put his hands over his face. She had me turn this way and that, continuing to push on him in the direction she wanted him to turn. Then, I kid you not, HE SHOOK HIS HEAD NO on the ultrasound monitor.  After telling this story at the Heath family Thanksgiving I got a resounding chorus of , “Yup! He’s a Heath boy!” from about six different people in the room. 

Now my husband is a calm, responsible man. He can have stubborn streaks once in a while, but for the most part he is compromising.

Naturally, I turned to him and said, “You’re not that bad. When did you mellow out?”

His dad took the opportunity to chime in, “When he was about 21 or 22.”

Chris nodded in agreement.

Oh BOY ! I think I’m in for it. . .

This is a picture of my baby’s naughty little stinker feet that are going to get him into all kinds of mischief some day:

My Son

Dear Poppy,

     I am sorry I haven’t written you in awhile. My blog acted up and then I lost an entry. . . not to mention not much has happened within the past few weeks—besides you dislocating a couple of my ribs!

     On Tuesday I found out that you are going to be a BOY. I have a little experience with girls since I already have a stepdaughter and I was a girl, but I don’t know much about raising boys yet. Don’t worry though. I’m going to work really hard at it. I’ve been asking lots of moms for advice and I picked up a book called “Raising Boys” from Barnes and Noble on Wednesday. I’ve already made good headway in it. I know I can’t learn everything there is to learn about raising you from conversations and books, but I am going to try my best. I hope you’ll be patient with me.

     I also hope you’ll be patient with the fact that we haven’t figured out a name for you yet. Had you been a girl, you would have been named Anneliese Rebekah Heath.  But naming a boy seems to be harder than naming a girl for us. We want you to be unique, but strong. We don’t want to give you an original name that’s going to turn you into a weirdo or a pansy. You’re our little hero. You deserve a noble name.

     Now that I know that you are a boy, I have some expectations for you. I know you won’t be able to live up to all of these at first  or maybe even ever, but I thought maybe if I gave you some advanced notice and let you know how we intend on raising you that you will have a better idea of what is coming for you in your future.  Of course, we will love you no matter what.

Here are some hopes that I have for you as my son:

1.    1.    Be respectful. I hope you grow to respect your father and me, your sister, and all of your other family members. I hope you grow to respect women and become a wonderful husband to your wife someday. I hope you respect all of the different types of people you will meet (even though they are different from you). I want you to respect animals, the earth, the arts, and new ideas. I want you to have an open and loving mind. This isn’t always easy, especially since stubbornness runs in your genes, but I’m going to try and help you.

2.      2.  Work hard. Your father and I believe in hard work and determination. Never give up. Don’t listen to someone who tells you to either.  Sometimes you won’t see the fruits of your labor for a long time, but if you believe in what you are doing you have to keep going.

3.     3.  Try new things. At least sometimes. It’ll help you grow as a person.

4.   4.     Find out what it is that makes you happy and run with it.

5.     5.   Be strong enough to talk to God. So many men think it’s weak or naïve to talk with God, but it’s not. Having faith takes determination and strength. When your father and I fail you, you can always look to your father in heaven.  Don’t be afraid to do so.

Love you,

            Mom

P.S. This is your bicep. I can already tell you're going to be a STRONG man!