My Son is a Sleep Ninja!

Humble student by day, stalking the bedroom by night...Look! Under the covers, it's a pair of pajamas, it's a book about Komodo dragons, it's Sleep Ninja! Able to have conversations in deep sleep. Able to make a cold chill go down your back as he sits straight up and stares at you without waking. Avoider of bedtime until the last possible moment. Hater of mushrooms! These are the skills of a sleep ninja.


Today, being Jake's 12th birthday, I thought I would reveal his true identity. (And I guess I could talk about what an awesome kid he is and a bunch of other mushy stuff...but mostly I want to goof on his being part of the ninja clan)


Jake was how we found out that Sylvia and being pregnant were not terribly compatible. Not that she couldn't get pregnant, quite the contrary.

"Honey, I think we should start thinking about having another bab....did I just feel a kick?"

Nope, getting there wasn't a problem. The problem started when Jake (who was named Zachary for most of his early little life...we had to change it due to his ninja status in the witness protection program...don't tell) decided to park his little body on Sylvia's sciatic nerve. He also started his chemistry experiments early, but most of what he concocted made mommy sick...she didn't have morning sickness, she had all pregnancy sickness. And what did the doctor have to say? "Morning sickness is a good thing. It means a healthy baby." Thanks a lot Doc, where's the bathroom?
Well, we got to the end of the pregnancy and late late one night Sylvia woke me to say that it was time. She let me sleep until it was obviously time to go. So sweet.

Anyway, in the hospital, things are going along pretty much the same as when Kristiana was born until it was time to push. Then the doctor said in as panicked a calm voice as I have ever heard he said, "Nurse. Page Dr. Scott to the delivery room. Code 999. Stat!" Now I am not a doctor, I have never even played one on TV, I don't have any idea what "code 999" is, but I KNOW that "stat" means NOW! Our little guy didn't want to arrive and needed some help.

(this is the section that describes the National Geographic portion of our blog...in order to maintain a certain dignity and decorum parts of this blog have been omitted by the author...You can, however, purchase the DVD narrated by Wilford Brimley at ...)

So Sylvia is lying back looking at me. I am standing holding her hand and looking at our new son trying to reassure her that everything is going well. Problem was things were not going well. Our little Zach (I mean Jake) was the darkest color purple I have ever seen on a human being. They rushed him across the room and three people worked on him with oxygen and goodness knows what else. All the while one of the nurses was saying in that calm panic voice, "Come on. Come back. You can make it."

(In the words of Forrest Gump...That's all I'm gonna say about that.)

He made it. His APGAR score (I went to ALL the prenatal classes) was a 2 and then an 8 and then he was in Sylvia's arms. She, luckily, has very little recollection of the exact events but they are indelibly etched in my mind.

Now the name. When the nurses asked what his name was, we said, "Zachary."

"Oh! The doctor just had a baby Zachary." Someone I worked with had just had a baby Zachary. Someone Sylvia worked with had a baby Zachary. Being teachers, this was a big concern for us. We wanted him to be unique and not be in a classroom full of Zacharys. So we named him Jacob after two days of debate. If you look at the year end stats for 1998, Jacob is the most popular name that year. It was the most popular name for years since. I am pretty sure it is the most popular name ever. You can't swing a dead cat at his school without hitting a "Jacob" (so I only swing gerbils).

Common name aside, He is inventive and artistic and he regularly amazes me at all his young mind can accomplish. Years ago he made a "monster" out of cardboard boxes complete with red gory sharp teeth. He had it in the living room on the floor and had strapped string to it. The string he draped over the lights in the ceiling fan and brought them behind the rocking chair. As I came in I decided to suspend the "What the heck do you think you are doing" speech as he jumped down from the coffee table.

"Watch Dad!" He walked over to the chair and pushed it. As the chair rocked the string made the mouth open and close. OK, I'm impressed.

Besides what we see, Jake has passed the "parent test" and people come to us to tell us what a good boy he is. One of the moms at school told Sylvia that she was proud of Jake. Boys were teasing her daughter and Jake told them to leave her alone. (It's part of the ninja oath) He has turned into quite a fine young man and we are very proud to call him our son.

Happy Birthday Jake!