Griffin Dean

Once again, I blinked and my baby boy turned one year old.

And here is my very (very, very) late Polack Orange interweb-ulous introduction of Griffin Dean Mohn:

Born September 20, 2011 at 10:15 a.m. Our "little" dude was 10 lbs 13 ounces. (Thank goodness for c-sections!) A bold tribute to my Mom would've been to name him Gerald Dean. We went with Griffin Dean instead. He wears that name like a glove.

Griffin is adventurous, feisty, chunky, hilarious, and has a little boy voice that sounds a little bit like E.T. As a new walker, he spends most of his time wandering around our living room waving around a dirty sock or wet dish cloth like a drunk cowboy that's just hopped off his horse. Each Griffin moment is like an unscripted comedic scene. He's our household comic relief. The court jester of Castle Mohn.

Prior to Griffin's arrival, Mom stopped eating. Within weeks of my due date, I was having daily conversations with my Dad about the state of things... "Did she eat anything today? Were you able to get her to drink anything? Has she been awake much lately?" I was simultaneously preparing for the birth of my son and the death of my Mother. I was at a bit of a loss on how to feel about it. I remember saying to a few people that knew what was going on..."It's kinda some intense circle of life shit." (Cue the unrated version of the Lion King song.)

Well, Mom pulled through. She started eating again. She had more awake moments. And since then she continues to have ups and downs. And with her ups and downs with the disease, I have my own as well. But to help me through it, I've got my Drunk Cowboy E.T. son to make me smile and with a middle name to help carry on her legacy.