2008 was a unique year for us. Annie was settling into a very promising job, my gigs felt like they had attained cruising altitude. We had been married for three years, we were about as happy as we could be. Something wasn’t quite right though.
Since day one, since our engagement days, we would have musings about someday having kids. There really wasn’t a time where we weren’t interested in becoming parents.
Before I go on, let’s jump back a year, to 2007, the tone of the late night cup-talks was beginning to change. The “what’ll it be like?” subjects–like walking the Baby to the park, Baby’s first steps and first words were beginning to be peppered with subjects like our finances, our budget, and lifestyle changes. Somehow we managed to talk ourselves out of kids, “let’s hold off until we are making a few more dollars…” Many similar conversations followed, Rinse, lather, repeat.
Now…left to my own devices, I will spin my tires relentlessly until I somehow shoot out of whatever mud pit I get myself into. My success rate with this strategy is higher than I deserve, and that bad habit is slowly getting broken. I’m a Stage Manager at heart. I need to have plans, contingency plans, and built-in redundancies. I am so good at planning that sometimes nothing actually gets done, but the diagram looks great! My wise wife is more aware of this flaw than I am, and she will lovingly shove me out of whatever situation I am spinning away in and will lovingly watch me sputter in shock and I’ll watch with misery as my beautiful diagrams blow away in the wind.
That’s what she did with our talks of having children. It was Christmastime, 2008. Our Charlie Brown Christmas Tree was in the background.
“We’re doing it Brooks.”
“Doing what?”
“It’s time for us to have a baby.”
“But…but…”
“Not the right time? You’re correct. It’s not the right time. But tell me this…when is the right time?” I was mute, “There will never be the ‘right time’. That moment pretty much doesn’t exist. We’re going to do this now. So,” she smiled and took my hand, “are you with me?”
I “sputtered”, I watched my plans, my diagrams and charts blow away in the wind. I returned her smile with a little bit of dust in my eyes, and pulled her in closer, “Yes. I am with you.” The silence ended with a cracked chuckle. The curtain was lifted, and the possibility of parenthood began lighting up the room. The tone of our conversations changed.
“Why we shouldn’t…” became, “How we will…”
The possibility became reality quicker than either of us had planned. Even Annie found herself sputtering a little. It was late February.
“Can you pick me up from work?”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Ugh…I need to lay down or something. I’ve been on the verge of puking all morning.” Thirty minutes later we were on our way home.
“Heheh, maybe you’re pregnant.”
“I am NOT pregnant. I’ve been watching the calendar.”
“Oh…okay.” silence followed.
Three blocks from home, “Stop at Walgreen’s please.” Forty-Five minutes later, “Brooks! Get over here!” There it was, a big bold “plus” sign. Over the next twelve hours, we looked at three more big bold plus signs.
Nine months later, Lydia Maxine’s first accomplishment happened, she created a Mom and a Dad.
I remember bringing her home for the first time. We stepped in, and looked at each other, “Uh…now what?” So we gave her a tour of our Home.

Today is the six year anniversary of Annie and I meeting Lydia for the first time. Oddly enough, she looks an awful lot like the little daughter I had been dreaming about all the years prior, except the reality is just a little better. There she is…her high-pitched voice, her big wide open and sincere eyes, bursting with wonder. I see her disappear into her imagination. I see her having new experiences almost constantly. I watch her “shake her booty”, I watch her try to dance like the ballet dancer on TV, minutes later she adopts her super-hero alter-ego. I watch her, out of nowhere, break out into song for no known reason except the song just hit her at that moment. She has an almost magical knack for bringing out the best in people. I have witnessed with my own eyes avowed curmudgeons crack under her spell.

She knows practically nothing about pain, loss or heartbreak. She knows nothing of deceit or true fear. She’s never felt an angry hand. She knows much about the feelings of Love and safety. Not a day has passed where she hasn’t done something to delight me.
Some days, I swear, If I didn’t check myself, my hug would pop her like a grape.
Annie and I teach her Love by example. She sees us being in Love with each other. She in turn has been teaching us how we really ought to live our lives.
Let’s all take a moment to enjoy Lydia’s lessons to us. Be Kind, Be Loving, Be Helpful, and Take Time To Eat Ice Cream.
So, to the star of this little piece, Lydia! You’re six years old! My little girl is six years old! (You do realize…we’ve been winging it with you since the beginning. Yeah, we actually don’t know what we’re doing. Never have. Anyway, that’s for you to actually realize much later in your life.)
Annie, my dark-haired beauty with the contagious laugh, the Love of my life, Mother to our Daughters, my wife to the very end, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for the shove. This adventure, like our little girl, has been better than I ever imagined.