Way back when, 42 years ago, I was also expecting a July baby - my surprise child. Not only was my third pregnancy a surprise, the little one surprised me again by not appearing in July when he was due. Here is a picture of him on his first birthday, along with his 10-year old half-brother and 3-year old sister.
Preston was due the last week of July, 1971 but didn't arrive until August 2. I look at the above picture now and wonder how I ever thought those curtains and that table cloth looked good together, but hey, it was the 70's.
My Mom used to say everyone should have a little two-year-old boy - that there was nothing cuter or sweeter. Here he is so proud of finding his Easter eggs.
"Oops! Now what do I do?" Preston had a full head of black hair when he was born and on top a little to one side was a patch of silver hair the size of a half-dollar. After he lost his baby hair it grew back the shiniest gold and curly. I hated having it cut. He was so darn cute.
And here he is in the arms of Grandpa Louis for whom he was named - Preston Louis. I don't think Dad looks very excited about holding him.
A four-generation picture with Preston at age 21 holding his first-born son. I wonder if he even imagined at that time that he would become a father of five?
That youngest one in his Mom's arms will be 16 this year. None of Preston's children was a July baby. His oldest daughter was born in August, just like her Daddy. (She will be 20 next month.)
So as I await news of these pending July births, I am remembering a July forty-two years ago and thinking about how fast those little ones grow up.
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