Dear
Mom,
Your grandson is 29 today. Can’t believe it’s been that long since I gave birth to my first born.
Carrying Casey was easy. I loved being pregnant. In one month I
had gained nine pounds. Dr. Muschaney said, “Whoa, you can’t be gaining weight
like that.” I felt depressed when I had to go on a diet while pregnant. I still
ate a lot, but all good, healthy stuff. The next month I didn’t gain anything.
Then I was back on track.
I was due September 1st. Since it was my first
pregnancy, Dr. Muschaney didn’t have real concerns when September 1st came and went. I
realized the little stinker inside of me had inherited his father’s genes of
being late. I joked to my husband, “Maybe I’ll have the baby on your birthday!”
One week went by, then another. By the start of the third
week Dr. Muschaney said, “If you don’t have this baby by the 21st, we’ll induce
labor." And so it was, they induced. I thought labor was a breeze when I saw the
little meter reaching full capacity. What was all the fuss about labor
pain? But the inducing wasn’t working and when they took me off it, that little
meter went down to 2 (on a scale of 1 to 10). That 2 was ten times as painful
as the original 10. Now I knew what the fuss was about and I also knew that I
wouldn’t be giving birth “el-natural” as originally intended. I wished for a
gun so I could be shot and put out of my misery before I was allowed to have an
epidural.
After 42 ½ hours of labor, I gave birth to Casey on his
father’s birthday… I felt like I couldn’t have given him a better gift. All the
pain, sweat and tears were worth it. Casey was the most beautiful baby I had
ever seen. Yeah, I guess all mothers say that, but I still think so.
Casey's looking a little stressed in this picture--he didn't want to come out, remember? And Dr. Muschaney said there was no way I could birth a baby over 7 pounds. Casey was 8 lbs 4 oz, so the little stinker had a rough go of it.
Casey grew up to be an artist. He inherited that gene from
his father too. Recently I decided to take a beginner drawing class to see if I
was capable of drawing more than stick figures. Casey asked me to post my
sketches on my blog… so for his birthday, here they are:
First class, very first drawing (we were practicing seeing simple shapes)
First class
First class, close up of hammer
First class, final (a bone)
Practice at home
Second class, warming up with simple shapes
Second class, blind contour (pad of paper under the table and we followed the outline of the shape - then we did the same thing looking at it - as you can see the one on the top I had my eyes open, but it almost looks just like when I had my eyes closed)
Second class, my (frustrated) drawings
Second class, final
When the artist, Adam Long sketches examples in class, he makes
it look so easy… just like my son makes it look easy when I watch him draw.
I remember the first picture Casey drew when he was being
evaluated to go into kindergarten. It was a person… a stick figure that five-year-old's draw, only the teacher pointed out all the detail that most kids that
age do not include: fingers on the hands, toes on the feet, ears, hair (crazy
hair). The drawing was so funny I wanted to bust out laughing, but I stifled
it. I remembered sitting across from the teacher with a huge smile on my face.
I never dreamed Casey would be an artist based on that drawing, but I do recall
the teacher being impressed. It showed what I knew about art.
My memory is a bit foggy, but I’d bet money (and I’m not a
gambler) that you’d always find Casey drawing something throughout the years. I
couldn’t tell you whether he always knew, or whether he decided when he entered
high school that art was his calling. I think he always knew.
I received a call from the high school principal one day that Casey was
being evaluated… but not in a good way. He had drawn a picture with blood,
guns, and head’s being blown off. Casey’s attention to detail made the drawing
rather graphic. A random teacher saw it and had concerns that something was
wrong with him—worried that he may be a troubled, psycho kid. They assured me I had nothing to worry about. They told me all of this after the fact. I could have saved
them a lot of time had they talked to me first, but I’m sure they figured any
mother would defend their child. The art teachers that encouraged Casey thought the
whole ordeal was ridiculous. They knew Casey’s inner essence.
Casey went on to earn “Artist of the Year” in his graduating
class. Naturally, I was proud and wondered what the teacher, who turned him in
that day, thought about this psycho kid. I guess you couldn’t blame the teacher really.
Better safe than sorry.
Psycho, Casey is not. A talented creative artist, he is and
one who is using his abilities to follow his dream.
Happy Birthday Casey! I love you.
