Shhhh

It’s been a tough week for Elijah. It looks like he caught a perfect storm of viruses. The poor little guy has had a 102 Temp forever. Thankfully, it hasn’t burned out his brain. Just the parts used for math, science and language skills. But he’s fine now, thank you very much. Back to his old self. Plus his body will be able to fight off the Super Virus of 2022, making him the leader of the free world. Or what’s left of it.

It’s hard to find the bright spot among all the trips to the hospital and IV’s and stuff inserted into his rectum. But, and I feel a little guilty saying this, I had a great time with Luca this week.

While Diana carted Eli back and forth to his medical team, I got put in charge of Boy 2. I even took a little time off work to attend to him.

Luca has two modes: Laughing hysterically and silent contemplation. And while I would pay a million dollars to see him laugh, I had no idea how much I missed silence. And I’m not even talking about Elijah’s constant din of “I want.” I’m in an industry that loves to hear itself talk. Blah blah blah market share Facebook overpaid creative director blah blah blah.

It was after about 20 minutes walking with Luca and Grover through the neighborhood that I realized no one was making noise. Grover never talks anyway. He prefers to let his pooping on the floor actions do his talking. But Luca, attached to my torso via Baby Bjorn, just quietly watched the world go by. Occasionally reaching his hand out to feel a bush.

I lost track of how long we were silent. It may have been only ten minutes or so, but it felt like hours. I was able to hear the inner workings of my head for once. It sounds like a rusted lawnmower motor.

Luca broke the silence by saying, “Guuh.”

I said, “Yeah. Guuh indeed.”

Diana managed to fit in a checkup for Luca while she lived at the Evanston Medical Center. He’s at the 90th percentile of height and weight. I have no idea how Diana and I could have produced two giant children. I imagine the two of them co-dominating a sporting event in the future. Probably involving an octagon.

You know what else? His doctor says Luca doesn’t have to wear a helmet after all. Now that’s something to squawk about.