Happy Birthday to Kaylee, Our Feisty, Self-Owned Pop Singer

          My younger daughter is two years old now. 

          When my wife first found out she was pregnant with her, she couldn’t (and didn’t want to) believe it. After all, her husband was trying to finish his last year of grad school and didn’t have any job prospects. Nonetheless, the OB/GYN office (who had delivered Abby just six months earlier) consulted her over the phone and told her that four positive pregnancy tests mean she should schedule her first appointment. Christina didn’t tell me about it until the evening after my graduation ceremony.

          Kaylee was our pleasant surprise. 

          Props to my wife for carrying Kaylee in her body through several flights, two moves, and a business visit to Colorado, where we (over)worried that the altitudes low oxygen would stunt her growth. Beforehand, she had one cyst on her brain that stayed a tad too long. It caused a bit of a temporary scare and required Christina to sit through some genetic counseling, but Kaylee turned out fine. 

          Kaylee was born in the same hospital as her mother, in Delaware. Abby’s grandmother stayed with Abby in our house as we made a late night drive to the hospital during Philadelphia metro’s all-time worst winter. As with Abby, I texted the manager at my new Starbucks to request a few days off. The rest happened so fast. Kaylee was born into our close-knit church plant family, and Memaw and Geepaw were just ten minutes away, so we had plenty of loving visitors. 

          I always figured Kaylee as the physically stronger one, because she was born after I had mastered the art of swaddling blankets. She had to break herself out of some tight papooses. There’s one picture of when I swaddled her, sitting in an easy chair in our parsonage after a long day of coffee-making, and we both fell asleep. I guess we could say we were, as father and daughter, together dealing with the overwhelming parts of life.

          Kaylee was only five months old when our family was called to Wisconsin. Now she’s a talkative explorer with her own distinct opinion (often distinct from her sister’s). She learns and remembers songs very well. 

          Kaylee, I love how your face lights up and you rest your head on my shoulder when I get you out of your crib. I love that you’re passionate and zealous (even though I need to redirect that every so often). I love your eagerness to learn and be yourself, and I hope you never lose your love for singing. I love your grace with your older sister. It’s my privilege to raise you, and you’ll never lose my love and support as a father.