Tonight, as I bound between the kitchen prepping our "Weight Watchers" Ginger Soy Pork, Asparagus, and Horseradish Mashed Taters and sneaking peeks at the Washington v. Boston hockey series, my wife Kristina remains in our son's room, holding him as he cries. We call it the "witching hour," as many of you do, and it remains one of many mysteries we cannot solve as parents. Preston cries, then pauses, then cries again louder. We don't know why
We have a few theories as to why. Mine is Preston is sharing his day. Kristina's sister Becky came over to visit the Manassas National Battlefield Park with her two daughters to share a picnic lunch with our family. We ran around, played with beach balls, and I got a fine lesson in physical education and following directions from my four year old niece, Lydia. The 21-month old Marin was satisfied with bouncing the ball off my head, which seems to be an attractive and ample target. Marin wandered the blanket spread with food, stepping in a plate of hummus and squeezing juice bags of organic juices on her with her tiny feet like a mini - Godzilla.
Lydia loves our son, to see him, to talk to him, to touch him and Marin does as well. They are both so tender with him considering how young they are. We had a chance to take pictures, talk about life with kids, and the nieces and I wandered off to play. After a few hours in the fresh air we went on our way and the girls headed back over the bridge to Maryland.
Later in the evening, Kristina and I went out so she could begin her running routine and Preston came along with us in the "BOB." We walked through the neighborhood and shared the falling light that comes at sunset on what became another perfect day. Preston dozed off as we finished our final leg and we thought the "hour" would pass us by. By the time we had him in the house, it had begun. One of the many things babies do is cry when they have a need. I think he was telling us the story of his day because he can't talk and crying is the only way he can get it out. We did a lot today so the crying lasted longer.
My wife and I are married four years today. I hear her sneaking out of the room after two hours of holding, soothing, nursing, and loving our son. I could tell you a million reasons why I love her. But I will share two. One is, she is a wonderful caregiver. She takes care of us silly boys in this house, gives us all we need, and loves us to the ends of the earth. The second, she loved us before she knew us. She and I used to work together in my cavorting days and she always pushed me, expecting more, holding me accountable. Many others tried, but she and I both knew deep down inside I could do more and be better than I was. A good friend does that with you, not for you. I knew she would be a great mother and a great wife early on, but I didn't know she would do both with me. As we go into our fifth year, words will never say what she means to me.
Suffice it to say, she is a natural...loving...tender...stubborn...determined...funny girl. We are the luckiest boys in the whole world. She just came downstairs, time to start dinner. I love you Kristina. Thank you for loving us and Happy Anniversary!
Christopher and Preston
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