Happy Birthday, Little Man...

It's Angus Remington's 4th birthday today! (Although, if you ask him how old he is, he will respond by holding up three fingers and saying, "Fourteen" or "Forty".  Think big. )

Four years ago, I had been in labor a week already....nothing serious, but not false labor, either.  I was in labor for my school board meeting and we had a plan of action.  If something "desperate" happened,  Mike G. was to drive me to meet the Farmer, who would've been alerted by my chairman by phone as we left, and the teacher would take over the minutes. 

So we have a contingency plan by our board for emergency birth, but no such thing as maternity leave. I was at the next meeting, too.

Anyway, the day Angus was born, I called my doctor because the Farmer and his dad had taken Maggie for the morning so I could rest and I was unable to...and mad.

The doctor had his nurse tell me not to fuss and just relax.  Then, about 20 minutes later she called back and said, "How soon can you get to Billings? We have a spot for you at the hospital if you can be there in three hours."

We could and were.

BUT, you could tell this was a second baby, because the bassinet wasn't set up, we didn't have any little outfits to bring the child home in....nothing. Traci G. graciously went shopping while we worked on having this little bean.

Angus was born in the middle of the night, not my best time of day, and he was beautiful of course, but had his eyes squinched tightly shut.  As tight as he could.  He was not impressed.

Right from the beginning, he wanted to sleep WITH someone.  In the hospital, he didn't settle down until I tucked him in next to me in bed.  He's still that way....if he wakes up in the night, alone, he goes looking for company. 

We caught a lot of flack, for naming him Angus.  It evoked strong emotions and comments...people either loved it, because it was strong and unique, or they hated it, thinking we had named him after the cows we raised. (Which we did, but aren't they beautiful?)

My brother calls him Hereford Winchester.

So you see, it could've been WORSE.

He's a great little man, full of funny little stories and faces.  And he's very, very strong willed.  There's no negotiating or reasoning with the child.  He will stand in the middle of his wading pool, teeth chattering from the cold and insist that the water is hot.

He's very tender hearted and the pets allow him to come close and lay on them, where they run when Maggie approaches. 

He A-D-O-R-E-S sweets.  Candy, cookies, chocolate milk, ice cream....ugh.

He has the PopPops...both Cowboy and Vern....right where he wants them.  We hope to use that power for good and not evil....

The last four years have gone remarkably fast, but I can't wait to see how this boy turns out! Every age is a delight, you know? Well, every age except three.  That's a special torture all on its own.

Love you, baby!