Quick parenting adivce

As Todd and I were discussing the other night at Chipotle' (yeah, I know, a hotspot for philosophical discourse), due to unforseen things, parents can only really promise their child's "now". It's not possible to promise them a future, really. I don't mean that you stop planning, stop promising your child that "I'll always love you, always watch over you", because they need that. They need the confidence that you're there. What I mean is that as a parent, you should fully embrace the present. It's a cliche' to "live in the now", but I really understand it now. It's sad that it took such a tragedy to really understand it. And it's not like I didn't hold them precious, or pay attention to them, I did, but maybe I would have paid more attention or something. Maybe I would have been less frustrated with them when they were misbehaving, since, really, they're only being who they are anyway. Maybe I could even have treasured their naughtiness.

My most peaceful momemt before the accident

Let me tell you about the times I was most peaceful in my entire life. These times were usually in the morning when it was my turn to get up with the kids. I would lay on the couch on my side, and Ani would curl up behind my knees, and Nate would sit on top of my hip or ribs, and we would have a blanket over us and we would watch TV. I have never felt so at peace, at home, in my sweet spot, whatever you want to say. The same thing goes for when you rock a baby to sleep. Their look of total trust in you is so powerful.

Yeah, oboe solos

Or is it "soloes"? :) Anyway, Christy mentioned this on the caring bridge site. I'm just a sucker for oboe solos. A few rehearsals ago there was a piece we were playing and here's this absolutely beautiful oboe solo that soared above the band (which is unusual in our band, since most everybody plays a volume step above the printed dynamics) and it just touched my heart. There are things like that where I am moved, though perhaps not as deeply as when things happen within my family, but pretty deeply anyway. We were watching "Across the universe" the other night, and since the Beatles are my favorite band ever, it was really pretty cool to watch and hear. I've heard all the songs at least a couple hundred times (well, maybe not "I've just seen a face", but I've heard that one a few times) and it was really cool to hear the different harmonies. There were different harmonies/chords that really brought out parts of the song that made a difference to telling the story and that touched me. It was also pretty cool to see Prudence coming in through the bathroom window (you Beatles fans should know this one). There were other visual clues, like Jude cutting the green apple, that were cool.

A new prayer of mine

I pray that someday I can rejoice in where Nate is now, rather than be so sad over where Nate is _not_ now.  I can't imagine how bright and shining his smile is now.  Or how sparkly his eyes are.  Those were truly part of his namesake, "Gift of God".  It's just so hard that our gift was here for only a short time.  I don't believe that God sent the tornado to "take him back", but I believe God took him back right away after the tornado hit him.

Part of my pain...

I think maybe part of my pain over the loss of Nate is that it feels like I'm not doing my duty to take care of him.  I still find myself planning parts of my day in my head to take care of him, get him up from his nap, etc.  All I ever wanted to do is to serve Christy, Ani and Nate.  Now I can't serve Nate.  Nate's in a place where he doesn't need serving, but that doesn't help me when I can't do anything for him.  Oh, my son, I miss you.

Feeding Ani's mind and development...

I need to try and come up with my own strategy of keeping Ani's mind vibrant and active, because I know it's working to some higher level than just responding to funny sounds. She seems to really react well to humor, so maybe I'll try and mix some teaching (keep up with the ABCs and numbers) with humor. I'm also going to try and mix up some stuff that she can just think about in her head, without the need for physicality. She used to love to realize that things rhymed, maybe I'll try and teach her to compose poetry in her head? Stuff like that.

What Ani did last night

So, I get home and Ani is already in bed, though she's still awake. She's not fussing, but still awake. I go in to say goodnight and say my "nite-nite prayer" over her, ask her if she stayed awake to wait for me. She's on her left side, and I lean in over her right shoulder and tell her my nite-nite prayer and I love her. She's breathing slowly and evenly and easy, her eyes are craned to the right to point at me, and then I feel her hand come up and touch my chest. I take hold of it and put my finger in her palm. She squeezes my finger firmly. She's still not fussing, her breathing is still in its slow easy rythm. She still has her eyes on me, though we still don't know if she can see, or if she can how much she can see. I tell her that she's holding my hand and she loves me too. I tell her again that I love her and that she's safe now, and we're watching over her. I've seen her bring her hands up, but pretty much when she's fussing or grunting. Did she do it this time on purpose? I really want to think so because it was so completely situationally appropriate. I'm going to take it as an intentional action and hold it close to my heart. It is literally the closest thing she's done to saying "I love you daddy" since the accident. I pray it's a sign for the future.