I’ll be honest here. I have been avoiding writing anything about Caleb because I really cannot fathom that there are words to sum up such an incredible little man. The guy is just amazing and I feel so lucky to be his dad.
When Hannah and I were married we had decided that we would wait 4 or 5 years before we had children. Caleb was born 1 week after our first anniversary. That worked well. Shamefully, I struggled quite a bit through the pregnancy because I felt like this unknown little parasite was stealing the formative years of my marriage. All that changed though on March 4, 2003. We had decided not to find out whether the baby was a boy or a girl. Imagine my surprise when he was born and the doctor turned him over to face me and proudly proclaimed, “Congratulations, it’s a girl!” I remember looking at the important bits and thinking to myself, “Either I’ve been sorely mistaken my entire life about boys and girls or she must have gotten her medical degree from one of those online colleges.” She turned him over and realized her mistake and I relaxed a little.
Looking back at the first year or so of his life I’m amazed any of us actually survived. I was so sick of being told how to parent. No one offered advice, only criticism. I know they all meant well and really I can’t blame them. Hannah and I were 20 and 21 when he was born so we were just kids and we had a kid of our own. One evening at church I was standing talking to a guy and an older lady walked up and started scolding me because I was only holding him with one hand. She then took the bag out of my other hand and placed it (my hand, not the bag) up on his back to help support him. I chose to ignore the situation to keep from drop kicking an old lady. The other guy’s reaction was great as he watched the events unfold. I just kept talking while she informed me how horrible I was, and as soon as she left I picked my bag back up and walked out of the room.
Every opportunity I got I would walk out of a restaurant or church carrying the infant seat and start slowly swinging it forward and backward, building up momentum and then finally over my head several times in a big arc. I loved watching people react to that, and then seeing the relief flood their face when Hannah walked out the door behind me carrying Caleb over her shoulder. I’m just now realizing that may have contributed to everyone’s compulsion to offer parenting advice….
Hannah and I decided early that we were never going to do baby talk. From birth we have spoken clearly and correctly to Caleb in hopes that he would pick up those speech patterns. Apparently it worked because from the time he started talking people have been commenting on how well spoken he was. He did most of the baby firsts pretty early. He was walking by 9 months. He was speaking in full sentences by 15 months when the twins were born. He had it made for the first year or so before we realized the twins were coming, but once we had an idea of what was to come we started pushing him a little harder.
I’ve often questioned how hard we push him and how much we expect of him. The thing is, no matter how high we raise the bar, he excels to reach and exceed our expectations. I remember we were at a church picnic one afternoon when he was around 3. A group of little boys was over in the play yard just running around being little boys. Caleb was the smallest and youngest in the group so he was always about three steps behind the group but he couldn’t have cared less. I watched the older boys start to pick on him. It wasn’t anything major, just boys being boys. They’d lock him out of the playhouse by holding the door shut, and then they’d all explode out of the door trampling him in the process. He’d hop right up and take off running after them again. It started to escalate and I could tell that he wasn’t enjoying himself quite as much. Everything daddy within me told me to go over there and give those mean older kids the what-for. Instead I decided to do something much harder. I let it continue. I knew that they weren’t at risk of causing permanent bodily or emotional harm. It was tearing me up inside to watch those boys bully my little boy, but I knew that this would only be the first of many times that life would treat him unfairly. I knew eventually he would lose his temper and punch some poor little kid in the nose (and Caleb has a mean right hook). I also knew at that point I would have to go discipline him for punching someone. A lot of people disagree with this particular philosophy we have on parenting. I believing that the greatest service that I can offer my children is to teach them what life is really like and how God expects us to behave in the face of a world that opposes good. I can’t accomplish that if I run interference for all his interaction with the world. Eventually someone else saw what was happening and got involved (probably assuming I was a horrible parent for merely observing it all).
Apparently, in spite of others criticisms, much of the things Hannah and I have done with Caleb have worked. He is one of the most kind-hearted, personable, likeable little boys I have ever known (and I’m doing my best to be objective here). Caleb can’t be summed up in 1,000 words or less, and I’m grateful for that. He makes me a proud daddy daily, although many days I still want to wring his neck. He’s an exceptional big brother and an incredible advocate for Andrew and Joel, but I’ll address that later. For now just know that I’m the most blessed daddy there has ever been.
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