Baby Boo seems to have acquired my cold from last week, so along with the congestion, runny nose and slight fever, he's been rather clingy and whiny, especially in the mid- to late afternoons. Not normal Boo-behavior; he's normally a very independent baby, just like his big brother.
And I'll admit, I'm not big on massive clingyness in a baby, primarily because I'm not used to it. Like I said, my boys are rather independent. But I'm not complaining about all the extra attention Baby Boo has wanted for the past couple of days. I'm not complaining about his wanting to camp out in my lap more often than not while we play on the floor; or having to rub his little head and back on the couch while he tries to get comfortable enough to sleep; or blowing lots of kisses on his lovely belly to cheer him up; or giving him lots of extra cuddles on demand; or wanting to be carried around the house while I try to get a few things done. Believe me, I am in no way complaining. Not this week.
Because front and center in the news yesterday was this horrifying picture . . .
. . . Yes, that would be a 9-month old baby being thrown from the fourth floor of a burning building in Germany.
shudder
His uncle had to make a chilling choice: to throw his nephew out of the burning building, against the pleading of his parents, in hopes that a policeman below would catch him, or hope that the baby could survive the terrible smoke and flames. He went with the policeman who did indeed catch the baby; he's fine. Sadly, however, the baby's two year old brother did not survive, and his father has been hospitalized.
Then, one of the first stories I saw today was about an 11-month old baby who got caught up in one of the terrible tornadoes that rampaged across a number of states yesterday. The baby --a baby not much older than my own Baby Boo-- was found more than 100 yeards from where his home had stood, "surrounded by flattened homes, bricks from a blown-apart post office and snapped trees" lying very still and quiet on the ground, but alive. Alive and unhurt. Sadly, his mother wasn't so lucky; her body was found nearby.
So I'm not complaining about the clingyness and the demands for lots of extra cuddles I've been getting for the past couple of days. I.am.not.complaining.at.all.
Because he's here asking for them. And I'm here to give them.
07 February 2008
I'm Not Complaining
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14 comments:
Those stories...they are both terrible (for the lives lost) and miraculous (for the children who somehow survived).
It hurts just to look at that picture.
That picture makes my soul hurt. Poor little munchkin.
Oh my god.
The wonderful thing about both of those stories (besides the fact they survived) is that they are young enough to not remember the trauma when they get older.
thanks for slapping me into right thinking and back to center. seriously.
So true.
I actually read that the parents of that Turkish boy in Germany died, as well as his brother. Horrible.
Hug your babies tight!
Heidi
Perspective can be a wonderful thing.
That picture made me cry like a baby - so scary and it turned out ok for the little guy.
These stories make me thankful for the safety of my children. Every night as I go to bed, them sleeping in the other room I thank whatever it is I believe in for giving me that gift.
Jesus.
Oh my god.
This was on the radio, but I hadn't seen the photo. Yikes. I had also heard that the parents through the baby - it makes far more sense that the uncle made that harrowing choice.
oh that picture. oh my heart.
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