A small, yet destructive tornado swept through Norman on Friday afternoon, just minutes after Joey walked through the door. He had gone to pick Jersey up from Annie’s Ruff House (her doggie day care and our chance at sanity), and returned home with a Sandro’s New York style pizza, our favorite. Hail began pelting our windows just as I saw his headlights in the driveway. Finn and I were watching Weather.com and the local news anchor with the rhinestone-studded tie point to Norman as the twister’s next victim. I had prepared our bathroom with blankets, headlamps, our important documents, a couple rawhides and our cycling helmets. Just as Joey suggested I might be overreacting, the tornado sirens sounded and we hustled to the tub. I think I was breastfeeding…in the bathtub with a mountain biking helmet on…when it skirted our neighborhood. We continued monitoring the storms throughout the night and into Saturday evening, adding anxiety to our exhaustion. It’s one thing to brave a severe storm with your spouse (kind of romantic, actually). It’s another with an infant.
Finn has been more alert, expressive and vocal lately. He makes these fun cooing and squawking sounds and seems to hold our eye contact longer. I wish I could know what he thinks of us–if he enjoys my kisses on his chubby soft cheeks, if he feels safe in his daddy’s strong arms, if he likes the sheets I chose for his crib, which onesie is his favorite and if Jersey’s stolen licks are welcome or not.
Most of the time we are very “present,” enjoying Finn just as he is now. But sometimes we get caught up in comparison, wondering if he’s on par with his peers developmentally. Or we worry about the future; especially during his leg and feet physical therapy, wishing they were normal, strong and capable. Ultimately, Finn will be just how and who God intends him to be. And I’m certain we won’t want him any other way.