It was a cloudy morning on October 20, 2005, as Nicholas Jeffrey slipped into this world, loudly proclaiming himself present with cries and wails fit for a tiny warrior. Even though his labor was much shorter and less painful than his older brother's, his entrance made me pause. He seemed angry, and this reaction is not what I had been expecting from this child that I had nurtured and carried with joy inside my womb."This one's going to give me a run for my money," I thought to myself.
Four years later I can tell you with an emphatic "OH YEAH!" that I was right. Boy, was I ever.
Right from the get go he knew what he wanted and would only settle for that one thing: ME. Daddy wouldn't do, Grandma wouldn't do, Grandpa wouldn't do. Only mom. When Michael was an infant I could leave him with almost anyone and run to the store just to get out of the house and he would be just as happy when I returned as when I left. Not Nicholas. He would begin crying when I left and when I got back he would be screaming, his poor little face beet red and flooded with tears. Needless to say, I didn't get out much when he was little. Wait, what am I talking about? I didn't get out much for the first 3 years of his life!!
