My First Baby is a Teenager

My first baby is a teenager. Where has the time gone? Luke arrived kicking and screaming on August 18, 1995 at 5:45 am, after hours and hours and hours (18 to be exact) of miserable labor. That night was the first of many battles of will that I would have with my precious first born son. I knew before I ever looked at him that I had, indeed, met my match. He was then, and is now, equally as opinionated, strong-willed and stubborn as I am. The combination of our similar personalities has sparked some incredible fireworks for the past thirteen years. The combination of our hearts has ignited an explosive love.
Luke came into the world looking like a thoughtful, well-groomed little man. He had black hair that lay perfectly to one side. That changed as soon as he received his first bath. From that moment on, that perfect black hair has been a wild mass of beautiful unruliness. In fact, Luke himself could be described exactly the same way: a wild mass of beautiful unruliness.
Luke’s strong-will was evident as a baby when I had to physically hold his arms and legs still against me so I could rock him to sleep. He, of course, fought to stay awake. There was far too much going on in the world for him to sleep. Now, of course, I have to drag him out of bed in the morning. However, the kicking and screaming still remains.
Although he doesn’t yet realize it, Luke had the distinct advantage of being the oldest child in this family. He held the place of honor as only child for almost five years. Five years of undivided attention from two parents and countless other relatives. I will always hold dear in my heart the hours I spent playing Power Rangers in the floor with Luke or choosing our favorite hot-wheels cars from his massive collection, then holding elimination races until a winner was crowned, always one of Luke’s cars, of course.
Dearest in my heart is the bedtime routine that seemed endless at the time. Today I would give most anything to snuggle in the cover beside Luke singing “Unclouded Day”, praise songs and “In the Garden”. This concert was always followed by a quite lengthy bedtime prayer session where Luke blessed EVERYONE he knew and many strangers and animals as well. These are moments that I will treasure until my last breath. If he doesn’t already, I hope Luke will one day hold them dear as well.
Every age, phase and stage of Luke’s life so far has been amazing. While some people were saying, “Don’t you miss having a baby to rock?” I was hopelessly in love with the chubby little boy who toddled through the house beside me having important “big boy” conversations. When the toddler grew in to a little boy, I was equally thrilled to watch him mow the yard with his Dad and skip across the street to visit his Mammy and ride his bicycle in her driveway. I was equally excited when my little boy grew into a big boy playing sports, having sleepovers and mastering his Play Station one game at a time. Today, that big boy is a young man. He is smart, funny, outgoing and beautiful. These are his surface qualities. Hidden a little deeper beneath his outbursts that we have come to label “road rage” and his typical teenage back-talk is a sensitive, kind, loving Christian young man. To say that I am proud of him does not do justice to how I feel each and every time I look at him.
Luke no longer skips, he runs across football fields and basketball courts. He has traded in his bicycle for a dirt-bike. His taste in music has changed considerably. I hope that I am never called on to sing one of his current favorites, because I don’t even understand the words. Luke doesn’t need me to tuck him any at night anymore. However, we still have “quality time” at night when he talks about his day and mine. Some say that parents should stick to being parents and forget about being friends with their kids. I strongly disagree. I am blessed to be Luke’s Mother and his friend.
One of Luke’s favorite things to do when he was two or three years old was to stand at the top of our back porch steps and count “ eight, six, eight, GO!!!” before he jumped to the bottom. There is a song out now that says, “Get Ready, Get Set, Please Don’t Go.” As Luke begins his journey from young man to adult, one that I know will be all too short, I must say, “Eight, Six, Eight, Please Don’t Go.”