December 7, 1992, Pearl Harbor day, Richard was born. He was a tough birth with agonizing back labor and he came out sunny side up with a true knot in his umbilical cord. That child did flips in my uterus. Literally.
But he was OK. He was an infant athlete and could hold up his head and scrunch crawl the day we got home. By six months, Richard was talking in full sentences. By seven months, he was walking. It was so funny seeing a toddler walk under tables.
Richard got little attention from us his senior year in high … Read more...