Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Wednesday, June 10, 2015
I sit in our Ohio home with just the dogs while you and Mom are at the hospital doing a sleep study. I'm pretty sure you're not going to enjoy it very much (smelly glue on your head), but maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised. Sitting here has given me some time to think about you and your life. You've been outside of Mom for 7,296 hours! That means a lot to me, because I didn't always know that would happen. But you've spoiled us rotten over the past few months. We've been living at home and not going to the Emergency Room, or even the hospital, except when we wanted to. Thanks!
You're hollering at me a lot more, which is nice. You get super excited when I carry you facing me in your car seat.
I'm super bummed when I have to leave you, but I feel this new drive to do a really good job so that you'll always have what you need.
I love your smile and your pretty eyes and dancing with you. My favorite time of day is reading to you before bedtime. I really think you're listening to me (even when my Winnie-the-Pooh voice is atrocious). We snuggle together with your head really close to mine and we go on adventures through bizarre lands of Wockets, Circuses, Dragons, and Tiggers. As we roll around and look at pretty pictures together I'm truly happy. I laughed so hard the other night that tears started running down my face. I was trying to do all the voices in a book and found myself doing a 1950's radio announcer voice for an 8-year old who was talking about zig-zaggity ladders. I don't remember being that happy and carefree.
Lately, I've felt this urge to explain how tough we are to other people. It's the weirdest thing, because they'll ask if you're doing alright and I feel like telling them all of the things that you have coming up and that you may never be alright, so there! It’s like you being alright is “wimpy” and if you’re not doing poorly then what makes us special? Pretty weird feeling, but I’m sure I’ll get over it.
The future with you is always a big mystery. I’m believing and trusting God more, which makes it more bearable.
Thank you for still being here Aberdeen.
Love you always and forever,
The Luckiest Dad in the World