... Feevah all throuugh the night.
We went to the doctor yesterday, because it had been twenty-four hours of sad, hot Toby.
Is it wierd that I feel most like a mom when he's sick? He prefers me then (yes, as opposed to most of the time, when he prefers whosoever is closest to the bird/car/window/dangerous objects).
He's only really been sick twice including this time so we are winning the lottery so far.
Residents will look up any dang thing you ask them- try it next time you see one about town. In this spirit, once we had confirmed Toby just has a stupid bastard virus and was not fighting one of the many new worries House has planted in my cerebrum, I pointed out a dark spot on the edge of Toby's big toe and inquired as to whether he might have an ingrown sommat' or other. Mr. Resident, who looked alot like Ron Howard, trotted off to find out what should be done about such afflictions. Of course, we all forgot to actually get that info at the end of our visit, but the point is they are Jack Bauers of discomfort, terriers of information. As am I, unless I get distracted. See how nicely that works out? What were we talking about?
Ready for some treacle? It really is particularly lovely when your baby will lay on your chest and watch your face while you sing badly to him. Mine happens to only sit that still when he's radiating heat and his eyes look like somebody slipped him a doobie, but it counts anyway.
Lucky for Toby and especially for me, my own Mama came up to help out. She herself didn't have people around when her first (aka test run, experimental prototype baby- Hi, C!) was new. She was stuck on the outskirts of Walla Walla. There isn't much to Metro Walla Walla, so imagine being outside it with no car and no neighbors and no mall to wander in when the weather gets bad- that would have put me right over the edge. You saw in the video how tough my Mom is, though. When I left for my gig last night she was rocking Toby and singing to him just like I like to. Because I don't have to work a day job, I have the luxury of appreciating other pairs of hands caring for the kid without (much) jealousy or guilt. I hope we don't ever take that for granted.
This morning he's no longer eminating dry heat and he woke up babbling instead of with that deep lowing cry he had tried to rip my heart out with yesterday. If all goes according to plan, by tomorrow I should be back to praying for his afternoon nap to go long.
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