So How's Brady Doing?

...Because today I need a break from the monitors.  Today I need a break from the medical jargon.  Today I need a break from the obsessing over each ounce gained or eaten, each desaturation, each number on the screen, each wire connection, each scary thing they throw at us that we have to be on the lookout for, each timer, each alarm...because today I need smiles.

Let's talk about my boy.  THE boy that made me a mom.  In all his Pyka ways, his silly, his not-so-humble, his insanely intuitive characteristics, all the things that make up his personality, I'm so proud of the role he is taking as big brother. 

Now...if you have been around my innately curious four year old lately, you know not everything goes quite so smoothly.  He's stubborn in the mornings and takes almost thirty minutes just to go to the bathroom when he wakes up.  He refuses to eat dinner half the time because it's too chicken-y or pasta-y or because it has a cilantro in it and green things just don't belong on his plate.  If it were up to him, he'd be planted in front of the TV watching Fireman Sam all day long instead of going to school or doing anything remotely productive. 

But my friends, his big brother role...now that is something special.  He's been talking about it since we told him we were pregnant.  He tells his teachers (and because he's Brady, complete strangers) how he's going to teach her all of the things...you know the important ones...like how to catch a ball, how to play with her dollhouse he's going to buy her, and my personal favorite, how he's going to protect her from monsters because "he's great at punching."  (Please don't call CPS, I promise, we don't condone punching monsters in this house.)

All these adorable things aside, he has been fantastic with his baby sister.  He gladly walks into the NICU, greeting all of his new girlfriends (read nurses), making quite the impression from the start.  As part of the procedure, his temperature is taken, he is given the most adorable kids hospital gown, puts on his mask and heads back to scrub in, encouraging everyone that "it's ok, because I watch Doc McStuffins" (for all of you crunchy parents who probably spend your Saturday mornings doing toddler yoga and planning out your vegan meals, that is another cartoon).

He scrubs in, only slightly complaining that the soap stings his eczema, and then heads back to pod F to see his girl, waving to more girlfriends as he walks by. 

When he gets there, for five or so minutes of complete focus, he is the sweetest, kindest, most gentle little boy I've seen.  He leans in, says "Hi baby sister," "I love you," and "Grow big and super strong and get super gecko muscles."  Each time we are there, he politely asks her nurse "Is she going to be ok?"  about twelve times.  He then reminds her that she is his "favorite girl in the world" and that he can't wait for her to grow big and strong so they can play.  It warms my heart. 

Granted, he is four, so after that five minutes is up, sometimes Jason has to drag him out so he doesn't wake up the entire NICU of babies...exaggerating a little, maybe, but hey, he's four...and he's Brady.  Then we typically ask him how it went, and we get a typical response...

But in all seriousness, he's doing awesome.  He loves his baby sister, and will proudly tell anyone that, he keeps her in his prayers each night, and can't wait for her to come home so he can get his monster punching business started....