He Should Be Better in 3 to 5 Days

This is my guy. He's cute, no?

But clearly, not starving.

He's got a great heart and the sweetest smile, but bum ears. They hear okay (thank God) but they keep slowing him down. In his 7+ months here, he's had 6+ ear infections. It's kind of a bummer. My crazy La Leche friends try to say that breastfed babies don't get ear infections. Bullshit. They get them. Or at least this one did. And does.

So, we got to take him to an ENT specialist on Monday. I say we because we have a family rule--if both parents can be at the appointment, both parents are at the appointment. It saves a lot of rehashing later and it is the most supportive thing we can do for each other and our kids. I try not to take it for granted.

Anyway, back to the ENT specialist. He's a nice guy and quick with the look-see in the eyes, ears, nose, and throat. He seems to appreciate that I've listed Henry's occupation on the registration form as "Baby". And he's reasonable in offering that we may need to eventually talk about doing tubes in the ears for Henry but we can try a couple other things first to defer that. But then he notes that while the ears are okay (today), Henry seems to have tonsilitis. Then he says the most unreasonable thing a doctor can say--He should be better in 3 to 5 days.

Now, I hate to see my baby unhappy. And I don't want him to be in pain. And I *do* want to comfort him. But 3 to 5 days? How did I not know that this was going to be part of the parenthood deal? How did I ever think that life would go on as usual and that my professional life would be unaffected? And how do you not feel horribly guilty for even thinking that?

3 to 5 days. Three to five days. Come on honey, get better.

I'll start clearing the calendar.

Pick A Number Between 35 and 40

I like to think of my birthday as a fresh start for the coming year. Kind of like a personal New Years. I get to recount what I loved or loathed about the year behind me and I get to mentally make lists of those things I hope to do or defend over the next calendar year. That is kind of a gift in itself.

Well, for a fresh start, I think the best beginning is a breakfast that includes cupcakes. Really fabulous cupcakes. I love my husband for thinking this way--he gets me. He can get bagels and lox and mimosas and coffee and scones. But really, it's all just a prelude for cupcakes. Big, sexy cupcakes with mounds of frosting flowers balanced on a soft yummy cake. I think I am in just the right frame of mind now...

Okay, pick a number between 35 and 40. That's where you'll find me. Still feeling like it would be completely rational to name something like 26 and not be wrong. I am at that very un-cool age that isn't yet empowered and still has that awkward gait. This feels like some sort of emotional repeat of seventh grade. Everything is new and bigger and broader. I have to own up to being a wife and a mother and I have to be new at both of those things.

I don't particularly like being new--it scares me not to know what happens next.