Life As A Parent

This is a common sight - Oliver stuffing some sort of food in his mouth and loving it.



He wanted to get the bird, but the rusk in his mouth was gone before he got very far, so he had to come back to refill.

It has been a strange week. The Thursday before the last one (does that make sense?) we headed down to Albany to spend some time with Oma and Peter, and to catch up with some friends. We had originally planned to take all of last week, but with the little hiccup with his last treatment, it didn't seem right to take too many more days off work. Our time away was lovely. Karli caught up with some friends, and Oliver enjoyed roaming around Oma's house and garden, frequently requesting a visit to the chookpen. Oma also bought him a Thomas the Tank Engine ride on train that he can push and play music with its buttons. Needless to say he thinks it is fabulous. Karli and I were also able to catch up with Trent and Michelle, who have moved to Denmark with their 3 little boys.

I forgot Oliver's trolley when we went to Hyde Park. He improvised.

Over the last week we have watched as our little man has done new things that have both amazed us and encouraged us in our parenting. Karli has taught Oliver how to say please using sign language, and he is slowly beginning to use it when communicating with us. Similarly, he is able to nod yes and shake no, and we are able to decipher some of his 'words'. He is becoming much bolder and steadier on his feet, though we are still waiting for him to walk properly. He is also becoming more sure of what he wants, which makes for some interesting moments. Kisses and cuddles are becoming much more deliberate, and he has become firmly attached to his little sheep - Shaun (Sean, Shawn, Shorn?) It won't be long before his trolley becomes more of a hindrance than a help, and then we will be in trouble. At least we can hear him coming at the moment.

So our week with our little man has been full of joyful and heartwarming moments.

Unfortunately, our week has also been coloured by the sad news of an old friend. During my last few years as a teenager in Albany, as a member of the youth group at Albany Baptist Church, I used to hang out with a fairly tight crew. Early each Saturday morning Rob, Dale, Stu and I would go out surfing. We spent some great times together, and one of my most memorable experiences involves Dale, Stu and I being towed behind Rob's Hilux on a tarpaulin. The surf wasn't great that day. Dale and his wife were supposed to be celebrating the birth of their new little boy, Tayne, this week. Instead, they are planning his funeral for next week. Mum's placenta had become detached and the little guy was born with very little blood. He fought bravely for a few days, but passed away on Tuesday.

Though I haven't seen Dale for years, and really don't even know his wife, the news was heartbreaking. Maybe it was because we found out what was going on on Sunday, and in some way watched the tragedy unfold from a distance. Maybe I hoped that it would all work out.
I know I feel terrible for not going in to just sit with Dale on Monday night when we returned from Albany. Maybe it's because we had to consider the possibility with our little boy too, but thankfully avoided it (the tough little bugger). Of course it raises for me all those questions I asked before, that were never really answered, but somehow became less significant over time. All I know is that it sucks. Too much pain for too many people, and one little baby boy who knew nothing else. I hope that in it all he was able to know the love of his mum and dad.

Sleep peacefully, darling Tayne. The fight is over.

Dale and Bridget, our thoughts and prayers are with you so very much.