Thursday, February 19, 2009

The Kid Delivers His Kid (Baby!)

My oldest son is very upset this week. When his first child was born he was robbed of the opportunity to "cut the cord" due to some silly "complication", health of the mother, problems with the delivery. Doctors, what do they know anyway. Tuesday morning when his daughter was born he missed out on cutting that cord too. I think his actual words were, "dang, I didn't get to cut her cord either". What a complainer. You'd think that he wasn't allowed into the delivery room at the hospital to participate.

Truth is he wasn't allowed in the delivery room. Okay, she didn't deliver in the delivery room but she did made it to the hospital. The reason he didn't cut the cord this time is a tale as old as time itself.

He was busy delivering his own baby in the car, in the parking lot, at the hospital, just after midnight.
Show off.

It happened like this (and this is a second hand report).

Son comes home from school, 10pm. (He's an apprentice electrician and is going to police academy to become a reserve sheriff in Spokane (SpoCan, not SpoCain), Washington. They're going to induce the delivery on Monday the 23rd, baby due March 4th. This baby is a kick boxer it turns out and is working out early for the Ultimate Fight Championship. His sweetie pie is feeling weird, not right, but she is a human punching bag right now.

12 midnight. After a bath Sweetie calls for mommy to come watch child #1. Doctor says come to the hospital. You know, runs up the doctors bills if you do that. Mommy comes because that's what mommy's do.

Sometime between midnight and I'm guessing 1:30, yea, AM!, they are driving to the hospital and she starts having contractions a minute and half apart. This is the part where my son decides that traffic laws are for sissy's because he breaks most of them when he puts his foot down on the pedal. She worries she's going to have baby and there is widespread panic... at least in their car. Me and the wife, she's in her kerchief and I'm in my cap, we just settled down for.... forget it. Sleeping like old people do. Besides, we're 400 miles away.

Somewhere during this blatant disregard for the traffic laws they hear running water. Since there isn't a sink in the car it must be coming from the pregnant one in the story. More gas is applied to the injectors. More panic too.

He skillfully drives up to the emergency room entrance, don's his SuperDad cape and rushes to the door to assist his wife into the hospital. He yells at the security guard to get help there's a baby coming and other stuff that I forgot.

Adrenalin is not flowing, it's pumping at high pressure, but still he gently opens the door for his sweetie and suggests that maybe she should remove.... how can I say this delicately.... her, her, her. Underwear. Just in case, which they do.

Now this is the part where everything gets crazy. Supposedly it happens something like this; wife screams "I'm having a baby", has a major contraction, and then, and then....


And then the nurses showed up, and security. Mother and baby doing fine. Dad, well he's SuperDad, his little piece of Kryptonite just jumped into his arms. Mom, well we just love our Jessica. We hope the baby looks like her.

Welcome to the world Heidi Jean Haynes. 6 pounds, 15 ounces. 20 inches long with lots of hair. Pictures to follow.

I wonder if his insurance is going to get billed for the delivery.

Friday, February 13, 2009


Besides breathing and eating, you know, basically existing, there is only one other significant event that has taken up any significant portion of my 50 years of existence on this rotating orb we call Earth.

Marriage, and the joys and pains that go with it.

Saturday, February 14th, my Honey Buns, my Lucy, and I will celebrate 24 years together. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I never knew what happiness was until I got married… and now it’s too late.

Okay, when I say that she gives me the look. But she gives ME the look! And I think she’s beginning to realize that I’m in it for the long run. I believe that we have a chance of going all the way and that’s saying something. In our families divorce has been the light at the end of the tunnel.

First marriage for me, second for her, but she’s sweet and says that I’m the one that counts. She divorced the first guy because of a sleeping disorder... he was always sleeping with someone else. She brought two great kids to the party and I don’t think of them as stepkids, just my kids. Two more, the clones, joined us in the first 3 years. Later, 7 grandkids, the 8th is due this March.

The memories…. Here are some in no particular order.

· Driving to Disneyland, the two of us, June 1986, Seattle to Anaheim, 1982 Ford Escort, no a/c. San Joquin Valley. Spraying each other with spray bottles to battle the heat.

· Honolulu, Hawaii, November 2005, climbing Diamond Head together. I nearly die on this climb because I’m out of shape, looking forward to the stairs at the top. I think I did die doing those stairs.

· May 1987, hanging a stuffed rabbit from the chandeler at our apartment in Tualitin, Oregon, our visual message to friends Matthew & Kerry Peterson, that number 4 child was on the way. (The rabbitt had died.)

· November 1986, Everett, Washington, me the big strong guy and my petite little wife, carrying couches and mattresses together in the pouring rain when we moved into our new rental because the local congregation of our church knew we weren’t going to stay long and didn’t want to help a transient family.

· June 1993, Disneyland again, this time in a rented Chevy Astro, all four kids. Might have been the best family vacation ever for us. Down and up the West Coast.

· Westport, Washington, the in-laws own a one bedroom cabin there. Besides being the honeymoon suite (or as a friend calls it “the stabbin’ cabin”), it has been the Spring Vacation Getaway for the family, numerous summer visits, the place where the crab is cheap and plenty. We all do the Walton’s goodnight thing when we stay there.

· Date unknown, the family home evening where we learned to spit grapes across the room at the house on 14th Street. Almost invited Guiness Book of World Records.

· September 27, 1987, the Seattle Temple for the LDS Church. We got rid of the “til death do ye part” and replaced it with “for time and all eternity”. Three kids sealed, the fourth was 5 months away.

· March 1991, Disney World for four days, the weekend cruise to the Bahamas. Oh yeah, it was sooooo worth it. No kids.

· February 14, 1986 – Our first anniversary, new baby and burnt brocolli.

· February 13, 1994 to July 1, 1994 – Temporary assignment for me in Denver, home every other weekend. She had the kids, the daughter turning 13, three boys in baseball. It was hell, for her. But it did everything for my career.

· November 1986, I was demoted in a job. Came home to tell her, ex-husband there to see the kids. Not a great memory but it sticks in my mind because it’s was so great that someone that day still believed in me, and she always has.

· March 2008, Lucy has major surgery, supposed to take only an hour, at hour two I wondering, hour three I’m spending the insurance money mentally, hour four I’m a basket case.

· Everytime we’re intimate, well… she doesn’t laugh at me naked. Surely she gets points for that, and “stop calling me Shirley”.

· Name Calling – We have them for everything, My Ricky to her Lucy, Shirley, as in "Surely you don’t mean that. Stop calling me Shirley." Buns, Honey Buns, and when she’s mad, HOT CROSS BUNS. And let’s not forget our old standbys, “Dream Killer!” “Hope Smasher!”

There’s more about us, some personal, some general. We’ve had our disagreements, our make ups, challenges financially, with the kids, with each other. But over the years we’ve been a team. We finish sentences for each other, we start them, we still get frustrated at each other, but we’re together 24 years later.

A young man once taught me (just before he got divorced from some wacko), the grass isn’t greener on the other side, it’s greener where you water it. Well Buns, Lucy, Honey Buns, Shirley, let’s turn on the sprinkler and get the grass greener for another 24 years.

Gotta Love That Kisser!!! Ricky & Lucy at "24"