Word from the Front Lines;

Lil' Bear has had a busy, busy week. He's had an appointment with one specialist or another everyday this week but Tuesday. His pediatrician at St. Vincent's, his nutritionists at Dornbechers, his gastroenterologist at OHSU, his surgeon at Emanuel and tonight is his physical therapist appointment back at Dornbechers. He doesn't mind it at all though. It's just more attention for him. And everywhere he goes, doctors, nurses, patients, visitors, receptionists, custodians and every one else has a comment and a smile to share. I really don't mind all the appointments either, it gets us both out of the house. This ugly weather is killing us with boredom. Good thing he got tons of shwag on his b-day. And, I had joked a bit before about how he likes the ladies and all that, but it's really true. If someone were to say it too me I would just dismiss the comment as blind parental love or something, but he really does, he loves hot blondes. He smiles for everybody and usually gets excited when he knows he's around somebody who has a fun, child-like nature, but when he sees a hot blonde he gets LOUD. It's hillarious and a little embarrassing, especially when I'm trying to talk business with the receptionist who can tell that he's freaking out about the hot blonde. I just flash a sheepish grin and propose that he gets that behavior from his mom.

So, after so many medical visits we have new updates on Baron's stats; He's about eighteen and one quarter pounds, he's healthy as a horse, his development is right on track with the exception of language he's all up on his shots (and he only cries for a couple of seconds now when he gets poked with a needle), his surgery should be soon and after last weeks ultrasound they can't find his left testicle. I've looked everywhere, I have no idea where he could have possibly put it.


Nana usually wakes up a few minutes before we do and she's been turning on the Christmas lights downstairs for us. When Baron and I leave our bedroom we can see the soft glow coming from the stairs and when we go down the stairs he strains to burst from my arms more and more with every step until we hit the landing and his eyes get huge and he slowly looks around the incredibly festive room that is so much different now from the one he has gotten to know so well. Sometimes Nana or Mommy will try to get his attention with calls and coos and high pitched exclamations, but always in vain. He has to soak it in. Soak it in.

I think I'm getting a cold. Lame-O, baby. What am I supposed to do? I knew this day would eventually come and now it's here and I can't call in sick. I have to smear a clorox wipe over anything I touch, I can't breathe around Baron for fear of getting him sick and all I really want to do is lay down and take a nap but there is no chance of that happening. It was so hard to feed him at midnight, I almost could have laid there and slept through his cries. Almost.

Damn, he's a good lookin little brat, ain't he?