I kid you not. I started this post on March 7th, and then it has just sat there because I was unwilling to finish it. I’ve decided that enough is enough. I’m going to slap some text on the end and finish it no matter how poorly it turns out. Enjoy!
Kate and I often comment on what a good baby/toddler Simon has been to this point in his life. He wasn’t colicky, he’s rarely sick, he’s generally very happy, plays well with others, and . . . I could go on and on, but I won’t. On Monday, we thought that perhaps our luck had finally run out.
I was home from work sick on Monday, and all I wanted to do was to crawl (back) into bed and sleep for a couple of hours. However, my carefully laid plans for a sick day were dashed when Simon started crying. As a parent you come to recognize the different types of cries that your child uses to communicate, and this was clearly the “I’M IN PAIN HERE” cry.
This was a mystery to us. It sprung up out of nowhere, and we couldn’t find a thing wrong with him. We didn’t know if it was gas, teething, or something far more serious. The pediatrician’s office, having dealt with crazy parents often, told us to wait it out and see what happened. Bringing him in might be more traumatic in the long run, because they’d end up running all sorts of possibly invasive tests since we really had no clue what was wrong.
So we waited it out. Simon finally fell asleep, and upon waking up had another bout of The Screams. What finally shook him out of it? Casey. That’s right. Once we let her up onto the bed and he was able to distract himself by hugging the life out of the poor dog, he was happy-go-lucky baby once more.
So Casey has finally pulled her weight. It’s about time. I was beginning to think she was just a gigantic mooch.