At the end of my last post, Nancy and I had returned from our first trip to Indian River with my parents. After shaking off the effects of too much fun, we resumed our daily routine. There were a couple of noteworthy events in the following weeks, getting together with the relatives for Easter and Fathers Day. More opportunities for the kids to grow their relationships. Here's a shot of Brian and Ted enjoying another afternoon.
This next shot is memorable for a couple of reasons. If you recall in an earlier Memory Lane post there was a pic of me with a couple of bosses receiving my first managerial performance award. Here is Nancy receiving a suggestion award. It was the early days of automation, and she and Gary B. on the right had developed one of the first computerized inventory control systems. It was a first step in using computers to keep track of the thousands of pieces of paper that were typically resident in an IRS office collection function. Presenting the award in the center was our division chief Dick H.
The second reason this picture is noteworthy is that Nancy had obviously put on some weight. Yes, she was pregnant. It was going to be an exciting summer.
In late May in anticipation of the arrival of our little bundle of joy, Nancy and I bought our first house. It was what was referred to in Dearborn as a "baby Ford", built in the '20s when the West Dearborn neighborhood was filled with Ford factory workers. But more on the house later.
I've always thought that one mark of friendship is who shows up to help you on moving day. On the day we moved across town from Harper Woods to Dearborn we had some very good work friends that pitched in. We didn't see much of them in later years, as they moved on to other places as work friends often do. But at the time, we were pretty close. Here are a few pics from the day, taken at the loading point in Harper Woods. This first one is of Dick and Mary and Bob and Patty (remember the ski trip?) loading some of the smaller items into their car. There appears to be evidence of a little glitch in the foreground.
In this shot Ted is contributing to the move by having some fun on behalf of the rest of us.
And one final shot of Gary and Jim, enjoying their discovery of the pictures from last year's office Christmas party.
Shortly after the move, things began to happen. Some were anticipated, like in this first photo of Christy at approximately minus two months. What a cutie.
And some where unanticipated, one of which led to this interesting photo.
Turns out, Nancy had a semi-precarious condition that complicated her pregnancy. This was discovered just before our first anniversary. Here we are celebrating with a cake while Nancy was in the hospital for a few tests. The cake was not covered by insurance but graciously donated by the hospital.
Ordered to take off work and avoid strenuous activity for a couple of months, she made the best of it. In an effort to slip gently into motherhood, she practiced with the resources that were at hand. Like Ted and Madaras cousins Melanie and Tristan.
Of course, there is more to this kid-management thing than supervised play. There's nutrition.
The resulting hygiene therapy.
And shaping the minds of tomorrow's citizenry, for which a specialist was brought in.
Of course, as it was summer a large chunk of Nancy's pre-birthing convalescence was served at this inviting spot - Avon Rae cottage.
In 1981 Avon Rae was pretty much as it had been when built about 60 years ago (other than it was once moved several feet further back from the water's edge during some high water times - the 40s?). The old wooden porch, the propped up window shutters (note the right side of the house) and the weather-worn beach stairs were still in use. The next decade would see many changes.
The usual relatives contributed to Nancy's R&R days, doing their best to keep spirits up while not consuming too many "spirits" in front of the patient. Here's a shot of Nancy (in the yellow hat) with two of her support group members, sister-in-law Barb and Aunt Evelyn, enjoying a day on the beach.
Our trusty sand-puppy Heidi standing (or actually lying down) on guard duty.
The paternal overseers of the manor, Nancy's dad Rae and her Uncle Ken, were veterans of several previous like adventures and not at all concerned about the outcomes of the therapy.
Cousins Ted and Brian were again on hand, pretty oblivious to the whole "rest and relaxation" thing.
Younger cousin Mathew was also present, going through his early cottage orientation exercises. In this shot he is being introduced to one of our oldest Avon Rae rituals - twisting the cap off of a cold Molson Canadian. You can't pass on traditions too early.
I spent much of my time that summer in this position, out in the lake hiding from chores and explaining to Ted how his days as "number one" would soon be coming to an end. He was cool about it.
As you can see from this last shot of Nancy's Ipperwash summer, the therapy worked well. The patient was in fine (although a different) shape and ready for the big adventure.
About a week before Nancy's due date, we were back at home preparing for the big event. There was a lot to do, having only been in our new house a few weeks. We were working franticly to be ready. Below is one of the few pics that survived from that time. I include it here for an important reason. Note the safety equipment I am wearing, the deft manner in which I am wielding my pliers, the firm grip I have on my victim (a broken sash cord) and my sober look of confidence.
This sort of captures my approach - then and now - to house repairs. Some would call this "unconscious incompetence". But I assure you I was wide awake during the whole debacle. The repair turned out okay, if I remember correctly. But what I didn't realize at the time was that my laissez-faire attitude toward the manly art of home maintenance would periodically lead to tense marital moments, and occasionally to collateral damage to our beloved dwellings. We'll be revisiting my colorful "Mr. Fixit" style from time to time in this narrative. But for now, let me get back on topic.
The big day finally came. At the time we were living in Dearborn, due to our recent move. Nancy's doctor and servicing hospital, however, had not moved with us. How inconvenient. That meant we had to make it across town - 20-40 minutes depending on traffic and the time of day - once the hour of urgency came. We had been to birthing classes and had paid attention. We had Nancy's bag packed and were timing contractions, so we made it to St. John's hospital at Mack and Moross with time to spare.
Having been through this adventure once before (son Ted), I had my cool on. Nancy was pretty cool herself. Well, as cool as any woman can be about to go through a procedure that no man would survive. She is prepped, wired up and ready to get her body back.
And here is what passed for space-age technology in 1981. Looks like something from Star Trek - The Original Series. No voice interface here.
Photos from the next few hours remain classified. But I can tell you that there was some heavy breathing, some hand squeezing, a trip to Tubby's for a sandwich (that was just me), and some wardrobe changes (again, mostly me). And only the required minimum in the way of disparaging remarks along the lines of "you did this to me".
It was a challenge, but I made it. And was present for the actual birth after about nine hours in the labor room. Here is the first unclassified picture of our little bundle of joy, and my lovely bride.
Here's a second pic of Christy with eyes open. She did that shortly after arrival (a hint of the curious and engaged individual she would become).
As noted in the subtitle of this post, everything changed in the wee hours of August 20th, 1981. The way it all changed, at least the first thing that changed, was the fundamental question of our family. Instead of conversations like, "What do you want to do? I don't know, what do you want to do?" They now all centered around, "What about the baby?" As it should be.
Bushed from all my hard work, I left the ladies dozing off in their respective recovery wards and headed back to the west side for some sleep. Early the next day, I was back to enjoy the creation of our new human. The oldest magic in the book, but one that never gets old. Here she is on Day 2, wide awake and taking it all in.
And stretching her legs. Sort of.
Here we have mother and daughter bonding. At least this is the start. From what I have seen after two daughters, this process never really ends.
At this juncture I'd like to back up a day or so. Christy was born one day before her brother Ted's fifth birthday. This was somewhat inconvenient as the family baker was not available. So dear old Dad was pressed into service. After receiving detailed instructions from Nancy, I took a crack at producing a suitable birthday cake for Ted. I am happy to report that I did not injure myself nor damage any equipment.
"Nice job", you are probably thinking. "Not bad for a first effort." Your enthusiasm will likely be dampened by the realization that this one-layer cake actually started out as a two-layer cake. But due to difficulties in the process, only one layer agreed to come out of its pan. And that only after some fancy utensil work.
My technique was adequate, but my notes were lacking. I forgot the step where you pre-apply shortening and flour to the pans so the cake can be lifted out easily. Oh well. Ted didn't mind as between the two of us we pretty much ate the whole thing. What Ted did care about was his present - his first two-wheeler - shown below in all its training wheels glory.
Learning about nutrients.
Learning to express herself.
Getting to know Dad.
Mastering what I call a full-body yawn - right down to her toes.
And sneaking in one more good nap before leaving the comfy confines of St. John's hospital.
And then it finally happened. Mother and daughter were bundled up and wheeled out to the car for the cross-town trip to Dearborn. There she met her big brother, who was waiting to see what all the fuss was about. This is the first picture in our library that could be called "the Burk kids".
So the beginning was over. Christy settled in nicely at home, and in those early days was a pretty easy baby typically curious and content. Here she is reclining and visually exploring from her baby seat, an item that today would no doubt be confiscated by the child welfare authorities. But she liked it.
Things brings us to the end of August 1981, when "everything changed", and the end of this post. We'll pick up with our early parenting adventures in my next edition of Memory Lane.
Grosse Pointe Charles
