That was pretty much the response from the parents. Well, except for Grandpa Napi who pretty much just expressed his joy at the thought of having a grandson. Oh the Grandmothers were ecstatic, but they'd been telling us boy for the longest, so the outcome was of little surprise to them.
Meanwhile, back at work I'm getting drilled from everyone on what not to do with my son. Comments sorta went like this: "You haven't bought him a gun yet have you!?" and then there were the "Please tell his momma to teach him how to dance!" comments. It was unbearable! Napi has even started "boy" shopping, coming home this evening with a blue creeper.
And so it begins. The world is gearing up for Mr. Peanut, and we're tagging along for the ride. Overtime called today and I ended up pulling a 0830 to 2200 day. Poor Napi is tired. Just worn out. The doctor informed her yesterday that for precautionary reasons she wanted Napi to take a week's worth of medication for some kidney related business that I didn't fully grasp. Needless to say the medication wasn't exactly sitting well with Peanut, who promptly did his best to remind his mother that at any moment he might revolt. She took it in stride, and notwithstanding some nausea and attendant exhaustion, made it through the day and still had the energy to come home, do a pile of laundry, and hook up some chicken breast for me to throw on my salads for lunch this week. She continues to amaze me.
Which brings me to my final thought for this evening. Napi and I are fairly grown adults. We both have jobs, we both earn a very decent living. We both work traditional 9 to 5 jobs, and every weekend we get to roll out of bed at a time of our choosing and for the most part enjoy a quiet weekend. So kudos to all you working families out there who have to stay on that grind day in and day out, seven days a week, 365 days each year. Kudos to those parents who earn the very meager minimum wage that guarantees poverty will never be eliminated in this country, yet still manage to put a roof over their kid's head, and put clothing on their kid's back, and food in their kid's mouth. You truly have to be pregnant to really start appreciating just how difficult a task this can be for those less fortunate than yourself. When you see a young lady standing at a bus stop with her child, having endured the long struggle that is work, and facing a world that can at times be so indifferent as to appear cruel, walk up to her and extend your hand in greeting and commend her for having the courage to take the difficult path with her head held high.
Watch Him Grow!
