November 10, 1990, is the birthday of our first child, Christopher. As much as this day is a celebration of him, it is also about the debut of our role as parents. We were married 8 1/2 years before we became a real family. As anyone who has darkened the office doors of a fertility specialist understands, no child was more prayed for, longed for, dreamed of, and finally, welcomed into parental arms, than Christopher. 

You cut your parenting teeth on that first child; you can't help it because you've never worn those shoes before. The wonder and magic of this permanent visitor that is half you and half your husband, and yet is a totally new and different person, takes some time to feel real. All parents of newborns are altruistic, but I think especially first time parents just can't help themselves. It feels like its your one shot and you want to do everything right, to give your child the best chance to grow up perfect. (I hear your audible smiles). You fret and worry about everything, because you just don't quite believe that the best advice is to relax, trust your instincts, and savor the moments.

Such is the blessing and bane of firstborns. Is it any wonder that statistically, so many are overachievers, but they also worry a lot?! Mom and Dad are just learning how to parent and experiment on them. Larry and I reveled in these roles. With the birth of this little boy, something deep inside of us felt whole. When a home is ready for a child, nothing expands the love between those four walls like the baby's arrival. To see your spouse become a parent, deepens an already strong bond of love and is a beautiful thing. 

I was always so happy that Christopher was my first, since he trained me well. I assumed that all babies awoke cheerfully at five am every morning. I thought all toddlers had to be watched like a hawk; you really couldn't turn your back for a minute or he would be removing the eggs from the frig and cracking them over the couch. Or he might choose to pull the kitchen drawers out like stair steps and shimmy up onto the counter. I discovered with subsequent children that not all one year olds blow bubbles in the toilet bowl (and can remove the child locks with Houdini speed). This one taught me to be a vigilant mother. 

Little Christopher had an effervescent energy and curiosity that would have turned us into millionaires if we could have figured out how to bottle it. Once he started forming words, he talked nonstop all day long and wanted to know the details about everything in the world. What a great kid to cut your parenting teeth on! And how exhausted we were at night when he finally fell asleep. 

Happy 27th Birthday Chris! And thank you for making us parents. :)