Hold On Loosely, But Don't Let Go

The summer I worked road construction, I worked close enough to a radio market big enough to have a classic rock station.  I now find this turgid, stale format almost unlistenable, but when I was 20 it was awesome.  That's when I discovered .38 Special and my favorite song from their cannon--"Hold on Loosely."  Now, The Special ended up where all classic rock bands end up, the Meigs County Fair, but before that happened a few years ago they served to brighten my spirits on long days holding stops signs in the summer in rural Iowa. 
Today, I had the first time experience of holding both of my sons' hands at different times in the day in order to get them to sleep.  It was a remarkably similar experience and sensation, except the older one talked to me, "Let me tell you a question..."  I held on loosely, but didn't let go.  Letting go meant that each would wake up and we'd be close to square one.  Yet, I couldn't squeeze too tightly or else they would not be adequately relaxed.
Henrik continues to look like Anders to a degree that amazes us.  Once Henrik passes 27 weeks, I'll have to post pictures side by side and see how many people guess the boys correctly (you have a 50/50 shot!) 
Anders decided to get Henrik a "brother bear" stuffed animal and deliver it to him today.  Anders was so proud last night that he had thought of that idea for a gift.  Anders is truly thoughtful and considers others in a way that amazes me.  That does not mean that Anders lacks for comic relief, however, as today he changed the 12 Days of Christmas to "12 Tiny Babies." 
On Thursday or Friday, Henrik will be weened off of the humidity in his isolette.  He will have a CT scan, routine for a 10 day old, and he will have a pic line inserted.  At this point we will transition from the "just born" preemie stage to the standard newborn preemie stage at which point we'll be able to hold him with skin to skin contact or "kangaroo care." I'm ready to move to stage two.  It has its ups and downs, but it's a lot less scary than stage one. 
On an unrelated note, you might be asking, "Where did the name Henrik Arthur come from?"  Well, like Anders it was a name that we had agreed on years before Henrik was in our lives.  The time between agreeing on Anders and choosing Anders was longer than the time between agreeing on Henrik and choosing Henrik, but we are still talking about a number of years.  We travel a lot in the car between whatever far flung locale we live in and our old homes, so Henrik came to us on one of those Appalachian Ohio to the Upper Midwest jaunts we were so fond of taking between 2003 and 2011.  My great grandpa was Henry Peterson, and had he been born in Sweden like his parents, he would have been Henrik rather than Henry, so I consider it a family name, regardless it means "Ruler of the Home."  Have I already said this?  I feel like I have...  According to my uncle Jim, Henry Peterson ran for the Kansas House of Representatives from Central Kansas as a Democrat, which makes him a profile in courage, and we are looking for all the courage we Petersons can muster these days! 
Since Henrik isn't officially a family name, it was my turn to choose the middle name as Anna chose her great grandpa Nils Anton Ytterboe as the namesake for Anders' middle name.  I toyed around with Henrik Richard (my middle name and my grandpa's name) or Henrik Jon (Anna didn't like the flow of this one, and I agreed).  Then earlier this year it all fell into place.  Anna's beloved grandpa, Dennis Arthur Lokken died after 85 vigorous and influential years on earth as a teacher, coach, and high school principal.  Dennis Lokken was a great man, and I don't use that term lightly.  His packed funeral in June in Litchfield, MN was full of emotional tributes to him.  Dennis was also quite funny, and one of the things he would do in a joking, but somewhat serious manner was to attempt to sell his grandkids (and their spouses) on the name "Dennis Arthur."  I remember he and Anna having an exchange over the name...
Anna: "I don't know, Grampa. I just don't really like the name 'Dennis' that much."
Dennis: "I'm deeply offended.  What about 'Arthur' then?"
Anna: "Arthur's not bad, I kinda like Arthur."
Dennis (smiling): "Ahhh."
It was decided. Henrik Arthur would be the name.  My grandfathers died before I was born so Dennis was like my grandfather.
While we are at it, and since we have retired from further procreation, I might as well toss out our girl name just for the historical record: Vivian Geneva Peterson.
Vivian was Anna's Gramma Lokken's middle name: Joyce Vivian (Ytterboe) Lokken and Geneva was my  grandma's name: Geneva Marie (Burnison) Peterson.  My only regret in having two boys is that I did not get a chance to honor my grandma in this manner.  She was without a doubt one of the two best people I ever knew, my aunt Marilee being the other one.  She is perhaps more responsible for the person I am today than anyone else, and continues to be the main reason I am NOT "34 and drinking in some honky tonk, just kickin' hippies asses, and raising hell."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YcBOcwgb4OA
(although I am partial to Shiner beer)