Leave Me Alone.

I'm a bit on the emotional side today; okay I'm a wreck.

Niah turns 18 tomorrow, and he's moving to Cleveland Saturday. The reality of it hit me this afternoon, and I started bawling; still am, albeit intermittently. My throat aches from holding back. Despite our clashes, I love my ernie haired boy so much.

Yep, I'm gonna re-post. You purists will just have to deal with it...again.


Eighteen years ago today, I stood on the front stoop of our base housing in Norfolk, VA, watching dear friend Cheryl hang laundry on the clothesline. Suddenly I felt water puddling around my feet, and looked down to see that my light blue shorts had mysteriously turned navy blue. I looked up at Cheryl and said, "Don't tell Joe, but I think my water just broke." She laughed as he pulled up in the car, and replied "I think he's gonna figure that out on his own."

Joe began calling friends, I showered and got ready to leave for the hospital. When I came out of the bedroom, suitcase in hand, several of our friends sat in the living room waiting expectantly. One of them commented, "You're so calm," as I brushed Johanna's hair and explained to her that we were leaving for the hospital and would be bringing home our new baby.

Joe on the other hand, was, well, excited. I watched as he tried to close the hatchback of our car before Cheryl had finished putting stuff in. The hatch bounced off her head, as she turned slowly to glare at him; he smiled sheepishly with profuse apologies flying from his lips.

We arrived at the hospital; I was situated in my room, and began the long process of having a baby. Drugs became a necessity, as this child appeared to be in no rush to enter the world. My clinginess to Joe faded as the epidural kicked in and I waved him off to lunch saying "I'm fine, it feels like the bottom half of my body has been smoking pot, go ahead." When he returned an hour later, I was screeching, "Where have you been!"

At 6:02 PM the following day, our beautiful, 9lb 12 oz., loudly screaming, Ernie- haired baby boy arrived. I held him in my arms, tears rolling down my cheeks, as I tried out his name. Kenaniah Christian seemed a big name for a not so wee babe, but it suited him. His sister visited him, and dubbed him "Baby Niah". The name stuck. Well, at least the Niah part did.

Happy Birthday Baby Niah.



I'll love you forever.