I was lucky. All three of my kids were beautiful, each in his or her unique way. I regret that I was so young when they arrived, I was 22 when Steve came along, 24 for Kathy and 27 when Mike arrived on the scene. Too young, too immature and too stupid.
The early day to day details are vague. not at all like their mother's who remembers the first fart, burb, barf and grunt uttered, as well as the day, year, time and probably the weather for those days.
I remember specifics: Steve's gawd awful diaper mess pile of mashed peas, carrots and dairy in a putrid yelllow green color. Kathy's sweet little barf on my face and, Michael ... ugh it was a gas attack.
Events and achievements make up most of my other memories.
With Steve it was his constant request for one more grounder, one more pop up and one more pitch that sticks with me. He was determined and stubborn as they come and a real whiz on a skateboard, cycle and on the ball diamond where he made me proud every time he played.
Kathy was a born to attract. When friends came over for a picnic, it's the picture of Kathy leading a pack of boys through the neighborhood, totally in control of whatever they were all up to that comes to my mind.
And Mike, as the youngest, it was often Kathy leading her little brother around, treating him as if he were her private doll to play with, kiss, hug and do whatever else little mothers aged 6 could think of to do with their little live 3 year old dolls. And Mike with his faithful companion Ginger who followed him to school and often waited for him outside the school. he took a lot of teasing and bullying from his older brother and a few of Steve's friends. It wouldn't happen when he got older. Play Hard, hit hard shoot hard
more .......
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