Tomorrow is my birthday. 28 years ago tomorrow I was born in Lexington, Virginia. The day my parents brought me home from the hospital it snowed. But I really don’t remember that little detail.

In fact, I don’t remember much about the first few days, weeks, or months of my life. I don’t think I remember a single detail about that entire year.

That is too bad because now that I am a responsible person who is caring for a little person in his early days, I would love to remember the things that my parents did as they learned to be parents.

Did my mother fall asleep while I was nursing at 2 in the morning? Did my father worry that I would break when he picked me up? I know that they used cloth diapers, so how many a day did they change? Did they change my diaper when it was wet, only to have to change it 5 minutes later after I exploded in my diaper? How many times did I poop or pee on them? (Fuller’s count so far: poop- 2; pee- 7) What techniques did they employ to get me to go back to sleep after I ate?

These are the questions I ask myself on the eve of my 28th birthday. I also wonder what I was like at 5 weeks. Did I make noises in my sleep? Did I startle easily? Was I able to track an object or was I still just interested in staring at the lights? I know I was a good baby, but when I cried, did I squeak like my son?

I don’t have the answers to these questions, but as Fuller grows, I will try very hard to remember the details of these early days, weeks, and months of his life.

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