In Like a Lion, Sleeps Like a Lamb

Do you see what I'm doing there in the title? I'm playing on that whole "Lion of Judah" thing. Anybody? Nobody? Alright, I thought it was clever.

What does it say about me that the greatest thing I've ever done was to watch someone else doing something? My part in the birth of my child (other than some wet washcloth-holding and a few forehead kisses) largely was over several months ago. Yet, it has immediately (really even before it happened) skyrocketed to the top of the list of my achievements.

I was a smart kid in school. My grades were always above average. I graduated with some honors and lots of scholarships. My time at Louisiana Tech was spent with lots of extracurricular activities (some, of the not so academic variety) and led me to some awards and praise on the stage. I was a pretty good DJ and an even better Producer during my time at the Radio Center. I currently run a pretty tight ship housing volunteers coming to rebuild New Orleans. It seems I've found my calling here. I'm a devoted husband, avid reader and film-goer and a wanna-be writer. All of that sort of pales in comparison (well, except for the devoted husband bit. I'm actually more devoted now than I was six days ago).

??I'm someone's father. A beautiful (yes, you can call him beautiful. In three or four years we'll call him handsome, but right now, he's beautiful) baby boy, who's half me and half Ella, is living in my house. He's eating and pooping up a storm (and not much else in between), but those dirty diapers are now like prize possessions (prize possessions that I quickly wrap up in plastic bags and throw away, but still).

Everything they say about child birth is true (except for the storks, I saw absolutely no storks and I was there the entire time). You feel exhausted, elated, excited, enraptured and absolutely terrified that you're going to screw it all up. The love and appreciation that you had for your wife yesterday seems like childish affection compared to your feelings today. Every hope and dream you've ever had for yourself is now amplified and applied to your child. At the same time, he could spend the rest of his life pushing a paperclip across a desk (no offense to paper-clip pushers) and I'd still brag about him to my friends (and strangers).

All I can think about (or most of what I can think about, there's still a little room in there for "Lost" and "American Idol") is music I can play for him and books I can read, games we'll play as he grows up, what he'll get for Christmas next year, where he'll go to college and what he'll think of his old man writing about his poopie diapers. At the risk of ticking his teenage self off (he'll probably be mad at me anyway) I'm going to keep writing about him, as tastefully as possible, because he's all I want to write about.

In case you haven't gotten the birth announcement (on the website, we didn't send out those sentimental little postcards), Judah Bennett Sharpton was born Wednesday morning at 12:36 am after a herculean 22 hour effort of labour from Ella. Even after all that work, he still wasn't quite ready to come out and meet us (he must have been nervous too), so the doctor finally decided on a C-Section. For those that were wondering, happiness weighs 7 pounds and 4 ounces and is 19 and 3/4 inches long. Who knew?

Our family changed on Wednesday morning, and undeniably for the better. Before we were pretty awesome, now we're absolutely awed. ??