About 11-1/2 years ago, I went into premature labor at the
end of my second trimester. I was given
medication and put on bedrest, and was able to delay him for a while, but that
little boy wasn’t going to wait. My son
was born at 29-1/2 weeks. He has been
early for everything ever since.
To him, if he is not early, he is late. There is no such thing as on time. We are always the first to baseball practice
and games. To birthday parties. To appointments.
School starts at 8:00, and the students are not allowed out
of the car at school until 7:30 each morning, but if I am not in the car line
by 7:20, he is in a panic. One of these
days, the fact that I forgot something and had to run back in the house is going to give him a heart attack.
He really can't wait for Christmas. I had already agreed to let him have gifts
from my husband and I early tomorrow since he will be leaving for his dad’s for
a week on Christmas day. Today he found
a way to make it come even earlier. We
were playing basketball in the driveway, and he asked “If I make it from here
(a spot in the neighbor’s yard) with my eyes closed, can I open a gift early?” Thinking there was no chance he’d do it, I
agreed. Swoosh…in it went! He shook a few packages for the hundredth
time and picked out a gift from under
the tree.
He is now happily setting up his PS Vita. Two days before Christmas. I should have better disguised the underwear!
I may not get to see the big thrill Christmas morning now,
but at least for the moment I am not listening to incessant questions about
what time he can open gifts. That is,
until he wakes up bright and early in the morning wanting the rest of them…If
he had his way, Christmas would have been a week ago.
And that’s why they have wine.
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