My first born Lynda turned 25 this week, so I thought I would dedicate a post to her. I was 21 years old when she was born. I remember panicking the day I was supposed to be coming home from the hospital. I thought there was no way that I would ever be able to take care of a helpless infant. But I managed, of course, and learned as she grew.
Just a couple of stories about her growing up:
* The neighborhood kids were playing baseball down the street, when she was in grade school. Lyn was catcher, and she accidentally got hit in the face with the bat across her nose. Her cousin Chuckie, who is the same age, was also playing, and because they were great friends, took it upon himself to run up and punch the batter in the face, for hitting his cousin. It was hilarious afterwards (once all of the bleeding stopped). The nice thing is, she and Chuckie stayed friends all of these years, and they both now have babies and spend time together.
* She and her sisters liked to play dress up together and I have a 'flattering' picture of her doing a Steve Urkell impression - with her pants pulled halfway up to her armpits. She would never forgive me if I posted that one!
* When she was in high school, she and her friends adored the Monkees - yes, Davey Jones and Peter Tork et al, and Herman's Hermits (Henry the Eighth). They went out as The Monkees for Halloween one year. They also went to see Davey Jones whenever the old fogeys tour came around. They were in the Peter Noone fanclub, and he would let them know whenever he would be in the area. We met him for lunch one day up at the Bethlehem Brew Works when they were doing a show in Allentown.
* She and Brad have given us one of our perfect grandsons, Bo. He is fabulous. He can do animal noises now, so if you ask him 'What does a cow say?', he will Moo. If you ask him 'What does Daddy say?', he will say 'shit' in his tiny little voice. I'm so proud, my daughter taught him that one. We will stop asking him, obviously, since we don't want him to continue saying it. But it sure is funny now. And she could not have picked a better guy than Brad. We love him and he is good to her. For her birthday this week, he surprised her with a day at a Spa, for a massage, facial, manicure and pedicure.
This is a picture of the three of them at my sister's wedding last year.
* The best thing is, in spite of all my worries that I may have been parenting the wrong way or not handling things well, she has turned out to be a beautiful woman and a wonderful mother. Happy Birthday, Lyn!
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