I continue to be more and more amazed at how much love a father has for his son. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t love him more than God or my wife, but it’s a different love. It’s difficult to express, which is probably why I find myself saying "I’m amazed..." over and over. Words don’t come easily to describe it.
I have always desired a deep, meaningful, quality relationship with my dad. Now, I get to see it from the other side. The Tobe is only 10 months old, which is obviously a far cry from adulthood, but it’s difficult for me to fathom how fathers and sons have relationship-ending fallouts in life. I hope to never understand.
What I do understand, however, is how a parent could harm their child in a moment of anger/frustration/confusion.
Toby still wakes up screaming bloody murder 4+ times per night. He fights sleep like a heavyweight champ. Robyn takes the huge majority of the night wakings, but I am not exempt… I typically take the pre-midnight wakings. Sometimes, he falls back asleep within a minute of being comforted. Sometimes, it takes an hour. Usually, it’s 20 minutes or more. After the third or fourth 20 minutes of the night’s screaming, Momma and Papa start to go loco. In fact, I’m nominating Robyn for sainthood effective immediately for remaining alive and mostly sane these last 10 months. After a split second of wanting to throw him across the room, I’m quickly reminded of how much I love him, even when he takes me to my wits’ end.
We took him to the doctor yesterday, just to see if he has any pain that is potentially causing him (and us) difficult nights. Nope. He’s just a 26-pound, 10-month-old, happy-during-the-day, angry-as-hell-during-the-night punk. We decided to have him tested for food allergies, mainly for our own peace of mind. Keep in mind that I am the chicken who passed out before the needle hit my arm as I was volunteering to give blood. I am the sissy who essentially had to be pinned down when I needed blood drawn for tests. I’m getting ready to throw up just thinking about these incidents.
My son? He’s a stud. As the technician was finding a vein and inserting the needle, he stoically watched those around him, seemingly unaware that a foreign object was piercing his skin and stealing his vital fluid. Not one tear. Not a visible moment of discomfort. He even started talking to the lab techs after they were done. (He doesn’t speak English. He could have been saying, "thanks a lot you piece of %?*#, now my arm hurts like a &@!$," but it sounded friendly enough.)
His Daddy is so proud of him.
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3 comments:
Ahh...after all these years and I still remember the blood drive incident!
Hope the Tobe gets to sleeping better soon...must be rough!
awwww! I can't imagine how tough this must be. Yes, Robyn qualifies for sainthood. I hope they find out something that can make him more comfortable.
I totally agree, and understand, the "different kind of love" thing. It can't be explained, but I do understand what you're saying.
I've also thought the same thing about the harming out of anger/confusion/frustration thing. Many times while Aly has been sick (a lot) and screaming and freaking out, I've thought to myself "Now I understand why I have clients." Is that a terrible thought? Probably. Am I going to hurt my daughter? No. But I do understand that a crying, freaking out baby can make a person snap.
Thank God we've been blessed with wives more patient than ourselves.
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