Moments like last Wednesday, when the school nurse called to tell me that Cooper had injured his shoulder during P.E. I had been in a deep sleep, ill from flu, when the phone rang.
I started to get dressed and drive in the cold, dreary rain to pick him up. Then I called Katrina, who had earlier made me pinky promise to let her know if I needed help -- and who happens to be married to Frisco's best ER doctor.
We worked out a plan to get Cooper help right away. Then the school nurse called again and told me that upon re-examination all he really needed was pain medicine. Katrina delivered medicine, and I fell back asleep.
(Steve had injury-prone shoulders. Gracious, I wish he were here to discuss his troubles with me and Cooper.)
Moments like this morning, when Katie was in a dental chair for usually routine dental work that in her case required heavy sedation because of severe anxiety related to anything medical.
She was a little loopy and a little scared, and I held her hand and told her that she was brave. I told her that I love her and am proud of her.
I wanted to say, "Daddy loves you, too," but I couldn't predict how she would react under the circumstances, so I kept those words in my heart.
Moments like tonight, when Cooper was ready to fall asleep and he asked me to take his B (his special blanket) to my room because he was afraid that it might fall apart. (It's well loved.)
I reminded him that Grandma had knit him another B. I found that newer blanket in his closet, and I wrapped old B inside new B. I tucked the combo B under his right side.
He had tears in his eyes. Me, too.
Then intuitive Katie called from the next room, "Cooper, are you OK? Is everything OK?"
And Cooper, who protects his sister at almost all costs, started to genuinely laugh and say, "Yes, I'm fine."