The Boy Behind the Name

Raphael Lukas Villanueva

His name is angelic.  It's ancient Hebrew origins can be translated roughly to mean "God Heals."  And it's true to his character.  He's completed this family perfectly, he's soothing.  Some people have asked us why we didn't give Raphael another "A" name, worried that he'll be left out, as if we named Andres to fit in or match us.  It wasn't vanity, it just happened that way, and Andresjose Amadeo has an awesome one-of-a-kind Old World Castilian name that honors both sides of his family.  It's rather fitting that that initials for our first child are A. A., mirroring our own first names, and even more so that it happened to be so on accident.

But Raphael Lukas came to us after crisis and loss, and we were given his name early in his pregnancy.  It wasn't until after Raph was born that we realized how perfect his name was.  Something akin to a phoenix.  Beautiful new life rising from smoke and ashes.  According to the Catholic Church, Archangel Raphael is the patron saint of doctors, travelers, lovers, sick people, blind people, young people, those afflicted with mental illnesses, and shepherds.  And Luke is our favorite gospel, as through his writing we can see clearly how he was so tender-hearted and real to life.  Paul called Luke the "beloved physician," and he was in fact a healer.  Of course, we didn't know any of this when these names were given to us.  And it didn't occur to me until about six months ago that his initials R. L. mirror exactly our middle names (Reymundo and Leigh).  He's not left out at all.  He's been given a holy and awesome name weighted with hope and responsibility.

Raphael, I worry, gets the short end of the stick sometimes in our little quartette.  His easy-going nature lends itself to be easily taken for granted.  He's two, so there's that, but overall, he's a very cool guy.

Since Andres was at school this week, three hours a day Raphael and I have been spending a lot more one-on-one time together.  It's been such fun to see him bloom into a person who is not only soothing and easy, but has a personality that cracks us all up, and a heart that's pure gold.  He absolutely loves babies, and sometime gets in trouble for playing a bit rough with them in the nursery at church.

As a student of language acquisition, I've really enjoyed both boys' stage of verbal output.  It's such a window into their little psyches!  I know that according to the textbook, he's delayed in his language skills, but if it wasn't for the book Scientist in the Crib that I read for a college class on language development, I'd be a bit worried about the number of actual words he can produce.  He talks a lot, frankly, I can't understand most of it.   His words are still onomatopoeic in general, like "maow" for kitty, or "woof-woof" for dog.  And if it has a beak it's a "quack-quack."  Dinos are "rawr!"  Anything with wheels is "rhoom" and "yummy" is food.  He's pretty clear when he says "don't want that," or "night-night" but still doesn't know which answer to give to a question (especially if he doesn't understand the question), and will usually default to "no," which is pretty smart, if you think about it.  Other than the symbolic sounds of things, there are other words he uses that don't quite make the connection, but thanks to his older brother, The Translator, we've been able to deduce that "dut-dut" is Batman, "dit-dit" is Superman, "wah-wah" is a fish, and "dah poopy" is the diaper, regardless if there's poop in it or not.

Lately, he's been punking me.  Yes.  Punking.

"Raphie," I say as I notice an ominous bulge at the back of his diaper.  "Will you please come here?"

"No."

"Do you have poop in your diaper?"

"No, Mama, (undecipherable babble) quack-quack in dah poopy!"
Translation:  No, Mother, but I happen to have a duck in my diaper!

His eyes sparkle something wicked mischievous, and his little cheeks dimple with a huge grin.  I laugh (because it's funny!) and ask again if he has a poopy diaper.  He goes on to include each barnyard animal in turn, and even dinosaurs and fish, or sometimes Batman or a car in his diaper, each time both of us bursting into laughter, before I ask again.  Funny guy!  He's like his daddy in that he's so clever and has a roaring sense of humor!

He's been praying at dinnertime, too.  This melts my heart.  He speaks softly, slowly, reverently, as we hold hands over the food, and he rambles on and on, with no end in sight, like he's giving the Pope a benediction.  His words are mostly nonsensical, but it's the heart and tone in his prayer that makes me shut my eyes to the tears welling.

One day that Andres was in school this week we went to the park and found Wish Flowers, or more commonly known as dandelions (unless you're a home-owner, then they're called weeds).  And is there anything more adorable than a two year old blowing the dandelion seeds with puffed up cheeks and stern effort?  As they drifted out into the big world, he lifted his pudgy little hand and said "bye-bye baby!"  Indeed, seeds are babies, too.

And he's a Villanueva.  By that I mean he'll come to visit us one day when we're withered and gray, maybe even bringing his own children, and have in the trunk of his car his guitar or whatever his instrument will be, since he's predestined and arranged at the genetic level to show up and make music, like they all do.   Tonight Andres was having a hard time going to sleep, and asked if Aaron (practicing his chops downstairs) could play guitar in their room to comfort him.  Aaron started strumming in the key of D and Raphie, laying behind the bars  in his crib started singing, to Aaron's amazement in the perfect key of D as well.  It was bluesy and soft, but he had a song in his heart, and he was singing it out!  And he sang and sang!  God bless him.  He loves music.  It moves him, and it's beautiful to see.  Aaron was deeply affected by that moment, singing a gentle duet together in the dim room as Andres finally nodded off to sleep, so impressed that Raphie was vocally tuned in.  I pray these two can grow their music up in our home like a garden of sound.

I took him to the community pool yesterday before we picked up Andres from school and I've never seen anything like his pure and unadulterated love of swimming.  Where Andres was timid and fearful of the water (and still largely is) Raphie leaps into the water like an eager frog.  He doesn't wait for me to catch him, and doesn't cling to the edge of the pool.  He's at one with the water.  He loves it.  Loves it.  He jumped in with his little man chest puffed up, climbed out and jumped in again for forty minutes straight yesterday.  I stood there mostly unwanted but still mostly needed to help him as he surfaced then rushed to the edge to climb up and jump in again.  I wish he had a little more respect for water, because of the danger factor, but there's something adorable about about a small little boy leaping with great joy into the water with wide eyes and a dimpled smile.  As much as he's a typical funny, gentle, musical Villanueva guy, I'm glad to see that he has my profound love of water flowing strong and deep in his viens.

It's been great having a little time each day together to play and bond, just the two of us.  He's so fun, and has a strong yet gentle spirit like his Papa.  The first day was like an awkward first date.  I had played trains with him, did two puzzles, and read three books in the first hour, then was out of ideas.  But he's been a good teacher, again like his Papa, being easy and gentle, forgiving and encouraging.  I'm sure he knows I'm learning how to mother him without Andres around, and he shows me a lot of grace.