There was the sound of a whimper.
At first, I thought that it was my imagination, or the sound of the laundry machine. Then it became louder and more insistent.
I crept up the stairs slowly, careful to not make too much noise. I heard the sound again, and it was clear that one of my children was up. As I walked down the hall the sound came from the room that Ollie and Ethan shared. As I entered the room expecting it to be Ethan, my 3-year-old, sad because of some small discomfort, like a missing sock, or that the fact that his pillow had fallen off his bed, I was surprised to find my eight-year-old awake in his bed looking at me with sad eyes in the dark.
Last Monday was Ollie’s birthday. He turned eight-years-old. We decided that we would have a party sometime later in early June but we wanted to make this day special as well. Diana brought popsicles for his classmates to eat after school. I grabbed a cake on the way home and we got some presents prepared for him. We got pizza for dinner and my mother-in-law to help us celebrate. Diana and I were delighted that Ollie told us over dinner that his birthday was just like he imagined that he had a great day.
Ollie’s birthday marks not only his birth but one of the most significant moments in our journey in parenthood. Yes, there are many moments that continue to be special with my other sons, but so much of my experience with Ollie as parents are filled with firsts. Seeing Ethan and Lucas my two younger sons walk for the first time was magical, but seeing Ollie walk, well, that felt different.
With Ollie I felt like I was learning so much while on the job. Ethan and Lucas have thrown me plenty of curve-balls and challenged me as a parent, but there is a confidence that raising Ollie gave me that helps me through the tougher moments that I lacked with Ollie. I’m not saying that I’m not a mess now, but as a parent, emotionally, I was much more of mess when Ollie was a baby than I am now.
Once again, Ollie has brought me to a new first: eight-years-old. I don’t know what that means, and what is ahead and that whole day last week, while I was happy for Ollie I was wondering what he needed from me during this new stage of his life.
When I climbed into bed with Ollie and calmed him down, I asked him what was wrong. He told me that he was having a hard time going to sleep. I held him for and told him that this was okay. He may have been confused as I have been telling Ethan to work harder to go to sleep and maybe Ollie, the one who actually doesn’t have issues sleeping, took it to heart that he needed to try harder as well. I asked him if there was a lot going on in his head. He told me that a lot happened today and that his head was full. I told him that this happens to me and that it’s okay.
I asked him if he wanted to read a book in my bed for a little bit. He nodded yes. I held his hand and walked him into our bedroom. I brought him one of his favorite books, turned on a reading lamp and tucked him in. I told him to relax and read a little bit and that I would check in with him later. I gave him a kiss and went back downstairs.
I came back upstairs after a little while and found Ollie laying in the bed, his head on my pillow, peacefully sleeping. I pulled the covers down and picked him up. I laughed quietly to myself as I struggled to carry him. His left arm stiffly swung to the side and almost bashed into the door-frame and I had to awkwardly position myself so that his head didn’t hit the wall as I turned into his room. I flashed back in the moment to carrying Ollie as a baby, barely the length of my forearm transferring him to his crib. I settled Ollie back into his bed, pulled the covers over him, and kissed him goodnight.
Ollie's birthday was a good day, and an important reminded that I can still comfort him at night and carry him into a place of peace.
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