My wife and child.

My Growing Family, originally uploaded by wisepeace.

There they are.

The two people i love most in this world. Candice and Ezekiel. Ezekiel David is expected to begin his adventure on August 28th. Every time I feel him kick, or roll, or hiccup I’m blown away at the thought of being a father. I mean… there’s a new human in my wife’s stomach!

I get lost in happy premonitions of a baby turning into a boy that eventually grows into a man. These thoughts are only enjoyed after I sift through images of those pesky stomach-bursting creatures from the ALIENS movie series. SIDE NOTE: Cover your mouth when entering a room full of face-sucking alien larvae pods.

Aliens aside, the experience of feeling our little Ezekiel bounce around inside of my wife’s stomach is quite surreal. I’m struck with the thought of creating someone’s childhood memories.

Maybe creating is too strong a word. We’ll at least be daily… influencing Ezekiel’s childhood memories. That’s huge. Yes, our first few years together may only be remembered as vague nostalgia, but then we move right into the cherished childhood memories of innocence and better days.

You know the kind I’m talking about. (For children of the ’80’s think Night Rider, Ninja Turtles, Atari, MC Hammer, Arnold Schwarzenegger in good movies (Conan the Barbarian, Red Sonya) and the tint of faded polaroids from the early 80’s mixed with the flashing and click-clacking of an old movie projector and you’ve got an idea of what goes on in my head.

You know… the classic family flashback scenes in movies. The good old days you look back on when you’re older. Running on the beach naked as a toddler ( I never did that ), taking a bath and using the bathroom at the same time ( did that… we’re talking #2… yes, it floats ), and other things that are OK, and even cute, if kids do them, but are “off limits” as we get older.

So what if I want to streak at the beach ?(…so hairy people would think I still had clothes on) What if I did feel like peeing in the shower? (…wait… I still do that) All I’m asking is where does the line between childhood and adulthood exist. Is it at the jewish celebration of 12 years? Or does it lie somewhere in the mysterious netherworld of … the “teenage years”. Maybe it’s found in the epiphany-rich twenties.

It’s probably different for everybody. Wherever that bridge is I’m just excited that, God willing, I’ll be there when my son crosses it.

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