1992 A Bittersweet Year

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Buffalo Nickel.”

Today’s prompt= Dig through your couch cushions, your purse, or the floor of your car and look at the year printed on the first coin you find. What were you doing that year?

1992 Wow! What a year! Me and my old man had been married only a year. He was 38, I was 36 and we were having a baby! Something that I had not done in 17 yrs. That’s right, I had one playing high school football and getting ready to graduate and another one in the oven. There was a lot of mixed emotions that year. It had always been me and my oldest son until I got remarried. So it marked the end of our times of just being us, we had made a good mother-son team for a long time. The change was not greeted happily. He was not happy about being a big brother or about having to move into the basement of the house to make room for the nursery.

But, I always like to think that this was what actually fueled a fire inside of him that came out on the football field. He excelled tremendously that year. He worked twice as hard to get half of the credit. And small town America on a Friday night was never more exciting.

In late fall, our bouncing baby boy was here. The most perfect “little” 10lb bundle of joy I had ever laid eyes upon. He looked like a tiny little grown up. He didn’t even act like a newborn.

So.. big brother goes off to college, which, by the way was the most bittersweet moment of my life. If I was ever called on to produce tears on cue, all I would have to do is remember our goodbye before he drove off to start his new chapter in life.

So, me, dad and baby were left to do the usual things that new parents do. Such as buying diapers, getting rid of dirty diapers, spit-up, child proofing the house, buying the best car seat and re-evaluated every aspect of our lives. All the things that I didn’t do with my oldest.  We would go to work, pick up the baby from day care, go home, feed the baby, the dogs, then ourselves and collapse. All to get up and do it again the next day. Really and truly, life had never been sweeter.  I would like to say then we lived happily ever after, but we all know, that’s just not the way it turns out.


3 thoughts on “1992 A Bittersweet Year

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