The last three months have been a crazy whirlwind. Anchored by some persistent ear infections, and a parade of visitors, your mama and I have spent countless hours away from work, taking you to the doctor, staying home with your sick self, or entertaining the masses.
I am more than delighted to report, though, that your ear tube surgery on Dec. 23rd was a resounding success… pun intended. You were such a trooper, and other than screaming for two hours after you came out of anesthesia, everything went as expected. We took you in early that morning, donned in your grey Gap sweatpants and your pink “Hug Me, I’m Vaccinated!” shirt. I sat with you as they put the anesthetics over your nose, and you were out of surgery almost as quick as it took me to get my over-the-clothes scrubs off. Mama soothed you in recovery, and you came home as fightin’ angry as I’ve ever seen a baby. A week later, though, you’re sleeping through the night like a champ.
They said, “You won’t believe how much she will talk afterwards.” And your mama and I doubted them, because before the surgery, you talked nonstop. But Holy Jesus are you talking. You can finally identify Elmo by saying “Ellllmoooo” in a high-pitched, breathy, trailing voice. You also put your hands on your cheeks and say, “Ohhh Nooo!” Perhaps you will be an actress after all.
Walking has turned into running, and fast. You still have kind of terrible balance, but that just means you run into things faster. I’m inclined to ask the people at school to call me on the days that you DON’T run into the bookcase.
Your love for music is unbelievable. We start music classes back up this Saturday, and I don’t know who is more excited – me, you, or your mother. You also dance a lot. You rock, you sway, you shimmy your hips and your shoulders, you bounce. Whenever music comes on (even, like, car commercials), you stop to dance. When it ends, you say, “more” with your hands and your mouth. If you don’t like a song, you say, “all done.” Like it’s peas.
We had visitors of all varieties – both sets of Grandparents, and some aunts, and cousins. Christmas morning was modest, as we do. Your favorite present? A blue ball. This, of course, was blown to smithereens when your Grandma (my mom, who is NOT having a stroke and almost dying this year – hooray!) showed up with more toys and presents than any one child could ever possibly need. I guess nearly dying her has inspired her to buy entire toy stores. Your mother, on the other hand, almost died at the sight. But that’s a whole nother post…
I think you’ll be pretty bummed this weekend when we finally take down the Christmas lights out front, since you do love them so. You did very well with the Christmas tree (packed away last weekend), and loved picking off the baby-friendly ornaments and leaving them throughout the house. We didn’t take you to see Santa… cause, well, kid, have you been reading this blog? Everyone knows how you feel about strangers… much less ones in red suits with white beards. Maybe next year.
You’re a really good kid. You’re funny and smart and downright entertaining. And now that you sleep, we’re all happier people. Oh, and you really like drumming. See?
Keep up the good work!