What the heck is going on? There I was minding my own business, scratching my nose with my big toe (quite a feat – you should try it sometime), I was warm & happy; suspended in my own little cocoon, supplied with all the food I could possible need. Alright, maybe it was just a wee bit cramped, but I was managing. Then BAM-O, all of a sudden my world explodes. Hands reach in and yank me from my cozy environment into bright, blaring lights. All these masked faces stare down at me; poking, rubbing, sticking things up my nose. I do the only thing I can think of – start wailing, I’m hoping that they will just put me back. But it was quite obvious at this point that I was stuck here – there was no going back. I might as well make the best of it. Really I should have known it was coming. Mom & Dad had been talking about the “big day” for weeks now. More than once I’d overheard them saying how excited they were that they were finally going to meet me. And Mom, she just kept going on and on about how happy she was going to be to finally have me out … I believe her exact words were “I’m done with this pregnancy”. Mom & Dad were both convinced that I’d come early, but they just don’t know how good I had it, nope I was in for the long haul. Of course it was a bit annoying when they would keep pushing and tapping my head – apparently trying to direct me into an upside down position. I tried to turn for them, but my goodness look at the size of my head (38cm to be exact)! Every time I attempted to flip, my gigantic head got stuck … it’s not my fault – have you seen their heads??? It’s not like I asked to be in the +90-percentile head range! Plus I had to show them who was boss – come on if I had just turned easy as pie, then what kind of child would I be – it is my duty to push back and do things my way … I needed to start my parental training ASAP! I am a bit bummed for Mom since she had to have a cesarean section, but she keeps telling me that it’s okay as long as I’m healthy. Anyway, I’ll fill you in on all the details in my next post (gotta keep this one short after all the trauma I’ve been through).
At least now I have a real name. I was really starting to get worried when they wouldn’t stop calling me Zephyr Raul, or Zeph for short. Apparently they decided they needed a name for me in the interim. Raul came from my six year old cousin, Preston. No idea where he got that name – he doesn’t even know any Raul’s, but he was so adorable when he asked Mom if she would name me Raul that Mom couldn’t help calling me that. Dad liked Zephyr though – he wanted a ‘joke’ name handy when people asked … he figured that then, no matter what they named me in the end, everyone would be pleased because it just had to be better then Zeph. I must say that I was quite worried for awhile. It wasn’t until just a few days before my birth that they finally got around to picking a name. I was sure I would be born nameless. So, let me formally introduce myself, I am Jake Dylan Myles. Mom & Dad have been practicing my name – especially yelling out JAKE! in somewhat disciplinary tones (hmmm what kind of child do they think I will be?). While Jake is a pretty simple name and they picked it only because they like the sound of it, Dylan was chosen for two reasons … first its origin (Welsh/Celtic) means “born of the ocean; son of the sea” … how appropriate for two sailors! Secondly my Mom was so pleased to learn that her great-great grandfather was Charles Dillon … she really wanted my middle name to be connected with her side of the family (since my lastname, Myles, comes from Dad’s side). Now, I’m not sure if this is a good or bad thing, but apparently the Dillon’s are circus people, still touring (with the Barnum & Bailey circus) … maybe I’m looking at my future career!
- Birthday: June 27, 2009 (I share my birthday with my Uncle Jason)
- Length: 53 cm (20.87 inches for you non-metric folks)
- Weight: 4550 grams (10 lbs) … no jokes please, yes I’m a big one
You can find out more in the “world passport” Mom & Dad made for me.
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