Last night was calm and free of any falling out of bed, I am happy to say. Jessica and I decided to give Namine one more shot at sleeping in her big girl bed, so we added a lot of padding – both in pillows and blankets – to the middle guard rail. No longer can she slip between the rail and the mattress; since that was how she fell out last night, that is no longer a cause for worry. (Honestly, I didn’t think she could slip through the first time, but I was obviously wrong about that.)

After ten minutes or so of protesting, Namine fell asleep. And she stayed asleep, despite the clatter that Jessica and I made while packing up for our trip up north today. I kept the baby monitor by me until I went to bed around 2:00, aware of the noise she made while rolling around and whatever else she was doing in her sleep. Man, I thought Jessica flailed about in her sleep? Namine definitely does that, and more. I stood in the room watching her sleep for a while, and it’s a wonder to me that she gets any rest at all. For such a tiny and supposedly disabled child, she sure can move. She rolls, crawls, pushes, and turns herself so much.

Last night, we attended the evening Maundy Thursday service at church. Namine always impresses me. While she does have her – as my sister calls them – tudey moments, she is overall an extremely well-behaved child. I suspect this is more just the way she is, rather than any awesome parenting on my part. Spending so much time in the hospital, I think, has engrained in her a patience and a stillness, an enduring calm. When the pastor speaks – not just prays, but even when he begins his sermon – Namine folds her hands and pays attention. I have no doubt that she is not just sitting still, but actually paying attention. Her eyes do not wander; she is not just being good, but she is alert and listening. (That is, when you’re not distracting her with jelly beans, Auntie Rel!)

Namine has always called Jessica “Mama” and I myself have been called “Haha.” Sometimes she’ll call me “Papa,” but the P sound still proves elusive, so it kind of sounds like “Mmpa-mmpa.” She calls Jessica’s and my mom “Ma,” and my dad she calls “Pa” (which, more often than not, sounds like “Ma” also). But last night, she called my dad “Am-mmpa.” (I don’t think you need a translation.) It was awesome to hear a new word – not with any special prompting from us, but by her own volition.

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