Family Matters

Earlier this month, my grandfather – my dad’s dad – passed away of prostate cancer at age 91. He was a strong man who worked hard to take care of his family and teach his children right from wrong.

Though no one was happy that my grandfather, who I called Papi Hugo, died, there was some peace in the fact that in recent years he had developed many illnesses, including the cancer. He had lived a long, fulfilling life, and in my heart I believe his death allowed him to be free of any pain and suffering he would have continued to endure had he stayed with us.

I was not as close with Papi Hugo as I was with my mom’s father – not because I didn’t want to be, but simply because of location. Papi Hugo lived in Ecuador, where my dad, his five brothers and six sisters were all born. Since I was born 27 years ago, I remember him visiting the states once, when my brother was born, and I’ve been fortunate enough to travel to Ecuador a couple times to visit him – most recently in 2007.

It’s taken me a couple weeks to write this because every time I’ve started I’ve been too sad to finish. Though I’m happy my grandfather is at peace, I selfishly with he could have stayed long enough to meet my husband and my daughter.

After I got married in 2008, my husband and I planned to go on a trip to visit my family in Ecuador, but we quickly decided the money we would have spent on a trip would be more practically put toward our new home so we would have a place to start a family of our own.

I didn’t get to see my grandfather often, but I know he would have loved my husband, Dan, and my daughter, Olivia. He was proud of my marriage and excited about Olivia’s birth four months ago.

It was hard not getting to go to Papi Hugo’s funeral to say a final goodbye, but I know he knows our hearts were there with my parents, who were able to make the trip.

I look forward to teaching Olivia about her past, about our extended family, and doing my best to introduce her to parts a family and a culture that she doesn’t get to see every day. I’ll start by putting a photo of my dad’s parents in Olivia’s baby book with a notes about how much her Great-Grandpa wanted to meet her.

The Sixth Sense

I’m still relatively new at this whole Mom thing. My daughter, Olivia, is just over 3 months old, so I realize I’m not supposed to be an expert at parenting yet. That said, throughout my pregnancy and now in my adventures as a mom, I continue to stumble on facts that I’m convinced all others parents know but neglected to share – useful tidbits the pregnancy and parenting books leave out.

One of these “facts” is that my daughter has a sixth sense. While she’s still developing her main five senses, Olivia came pre-programed with her special sixth sense, as I now have a feeling most babies do. My daughter has a keen sense for waking up from the soundest sleep with impeccable timing.

It was kind of funny and cute at first. It was like she didn’t want to miss anything, didn’t want to be left out of the fun. Admittedly though, it’s become much less funny and much more tiring.

Olivia seems to know the second my head hits the pillow or the moment I get myself tucked tightly under the covers. The string of red baby-monitor lights that alert my husband and me to her noises instantly flash the second we decide we’ll steal a few minutes of peace to snuggle on the couch. As soon as his arm wraps around my shoulder and my head falls with exhaustion on his chest, she begins her process of tossing, turning, furiously kicking her blanket off her legs and yelping to be fed and rocked back to sleep.

Do all babies have an internal sensor alerting them to Mommy rest, relaxation and snuggling that doesn’t involve them? Or is my little one super-advanced for her age, with hidden cameras throughout our house? And what’s more, is that a baby-sized “Bwahahaha” I sometimes hear from her crib just before I go into her room?

I think this is one of many baby habits that are here to stay for at least the very near future. And, in the bigger picture, things like this are what truly hit me where it hurts. They directly contradict my inherent need to be in control. It honestly didn’t quite sink in until she arrived after the nearly 10 months of anticipation – Olivia is, in fact, the boss.

At least until the days when she understand “No” and “Stop,” until she can minimally say “MaMa,” and until she eats more than just breast milk, I’m at her mercy. Until then, I’ll have to settle for little sleep and little rest in exchange for her big smiles, chubby cheeks, high-pitched giggles and big blue eyes full of unending love. Definitely not the worst deal I’ve made.