Henrik's 3rd Birthday

Henrik turned three yesterday.  I've been thinking a lot about that day since the calendar turned to November. Life has changed drastically in three years from where we live to the dynamic of our family.
Henrik loves numbers and letters, stop me if you've heard this before... He loves to slide down the stairs on his bottom. Trudy is his great friend. She tries to sleep in his bed, next to his face, which means that twice a week he wakes up screaming in abject terror as he finds a pile of fur in his face.
Henrik loves Anders and will do anything to gain his attention, but if Anders is stepping to close or horning in on his things, then Henrik will take a swing at Anders. Henrik has a little "daycare edge" that Anders never developed.
Henrik has finally found an interest in potty training. It remains intermittent, but we are on the road. I am hopeful that three will be better than two. Two was rougher with Henrik than Anders. Meanwhile, Anders at three was not my favorite age. I've had a ball with Anders since he turned four. I guess not knowing is what makes it fun.
We, however, remain those parents that aren't nostalgic for our kids being helpless babies. I love that they are getting older and more self sufficient. They even play with each other for a minute or two before Anders horns in on Henrik and he swings back.
One of the funny thing that Henrik does is say "mine" rather than "my." Couple that with his white-blond hair, and Henrik could be an extra in a WWII movie, in an establishing scene at home where the movie Nazi goes home after work to be with his family.
Henrik also gave himself a nickname, deeming himself "Hammy." He loves when we call him Hammy, he smiles and lights up like a Christmas tree.
Looking back, I realize now that the stress of a second preemie triggered a rather severe amount of aging between 34 and 35. I won't go into every part of my physical decline, but my beard turned much whiter.
I thought much of Henrik's birth as I woke up on November 9th in Donald Trump's America. These past two weeks have felt like the days after Henrik was born, "So, we're doing this again, huh?" I'm still trying to calibrate how much to feel and engage this time around, which may sound weird, but I did the same evaluation when Henrik was born. When Anders was born, I reached out to everyone, looking for support everywhere. For Henrik's term as a preemie, I forged ahead with just Anna. Trump's election left me despondent and caused me to leave Facebook and Twitter. I've lost faith with my fellow Midwesterners. I'm fairly confident that I know how these next four to eight years will go, which terrifies and exhausts me at the same time. Spending three months in the hospital with your premature son will also terrify you, then exhaust you.
I'm glad that the first president Anders remembers will be Obama. That will go a long way, and whenever Anders thinks of the "The President," Obama will come to mind first.
Anders woke up at about 10 pm on Election Night, just as it was sinking in what was happening in Wisconsin, and how Michigan was not turning toward Hillary. He was wearing my "Boilermakers for Obama" t-shirt as his sleep shirt. I didn't have the heart to tell him, as he had made homemade Hillary signs and an "election bowl" for my office. I let him watch for about 15 minutes, just telling him that it was really close. He replied, "She can still win." I said, "Yeah, it's too close to call, it could go either way," or something like that.
The next morning I lingered in the kitchen before trudging up to his room to wake him up. Telling him was one of the hardest things I've yet done as a parent. He wailed and heaved uncontrollably, then Anna came in and they shared a long cry. Meanwhile, I chased Henrik around as he babbled and toddled excitedly. Later, Anders mourned by slowly doing his President Puzzle. While he calmed himself, if I could read his mind, I believe that Anders was saying, "How did that bad man make it onto this puzzle?" I don't know, Buddy, but we are going to be tested in ways that we don't fully comprehend yet over the next few years.

Anders's First Concert: Beatle Paul

Yesterday, Anders and I attended the McCartney concert at Target Center. Anders loved everything about the evening from the subterranean, heated parking garage through watching the clock strike midnight on the ride home.
Anders made a sign for Paul, well for all four Beatles really. It was almost blown away as we were crossing an intersecting street on the Nicollette Mall, but a nice man caught it in stride and returned it to Anders, to the commendation of a woman crossing the street at the same time as us.
We ate at Brit's Pub, then walked to First Avenue to take a picture with the Prince Star. Many pictures and mostly wilted flowers remained there. We got in our seats across the street at Target Center by 7:30. Paul didn't start playing until about 8:50. We filled the intervening time with M&Ms and Minecraft reading on my phone.
The concert started strong with "A Hard Day's Night." The first third of the concert alternated between Beatles songs and newer songs or B sides. Anders crashed after "Temporary Secretary," the 5th song, then rallied around song 15 when Paul played "Love Me Do." He stayed awake for a long stretch, the crashed again. I could not believe that he mostly slept through a rocking "Band on the Run" and the pyrotechnic display on "Live and Let Die."
For much of Anders' sleeping time during the concert, he would wake up to clap at the end of songs and when Paul said "thank you," Anders would reply, "Your welcome!"
The best part was the "Hey Jude" sing along. Anders sang at the top of his lungs. At one point, he stood up, danced, and yelled the words, "Na, na, na, na, Hey Jude!" Anders said Paul pointed directly at him during the song and when Paul said, "You were great!" to the audience at the end, Anders treasured those words as a personal compliment to him.
He also really enjoyed "Birthday" during the encore.
My favorite parts were the circus music and lights display on "Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite" from "Sgt. Pepper's," and the "Let's Go Crazy" riff (with purple symbol) in honor of Prince. My true favorite part was watching Anders react and say things like, "Paul McCartney!" That's Paul McCartney!" "You're welcome Paul McCartney!"
This morning, we are both in rough shape. I knew Anders wouldn't sleep in and he did not disappoint. As I was half way through telling Anna about the show, Anders burst in Kramer-style and picked up the narration with the "Hey Jude" section.
It's a priceless experience that will grow in significance over the years, or even tomorrow once the tired-sweats subside.