Thanks so much everyone for your sympathy and for indulging me in my whining. I didn't think I was a wimp, but it turns out I've just never had to deal with real pain. I have a seriously renewed respect for people who live with it all the time. And once again I must marvel at chemistry. The antibiotics kicked in somewhere around Friday night and changed me into a new person. I actually got to chew again! After Thursday I only needed a couple of advil to sleep, and by yesterday afternoon the misery was but a memory.
Of course I still have to have the root canal in a couple of hours, but regardless the quality of the past few days was drastically improved. And none too soon, too, because like that, my baby is a boy. Oh my stars- these moments - I'm telling you, I would die if something so stupid as a toothache meant they were overshadowed. The latest, which happened boom-boom-boom: he figured out how to get water out of the sippy cup, and can't seem to get enough. He's sort of (ack!) crawling, which is incredible but nothing and no one is safe now. And when you sit him up with his toys, he just plays and plays like a human person. Lately getting a poop out has become a mighty struggle for him, and it's hilarious to observe the process, even though it makes you feel so bad for the little guy. Last night he slept a 9 hour chunk, then back down for 2 after feeding. Who is this child and what have you done with HR?
Of course that's only one night. Tonight I'm sure will be a whole different ballgame. And even it it is, it doesn't change that for Mike and me he is the joy of all time. Raising him is still the most work we've ever done in our lives, and I know we've only just started, but I can't think of anything more worth it. I'm in love with his sweet and vulnerable profile, his fat gorgeous baby legs, the way he makes little "mmm" sounds when he eats and the way his little hand sort of clutches at me while he's nursing. I could cry, constantly, but tears of gratitude and wonder. Ah, hormonal ecstasia. (Note to self: read this when he's a teenager.)
Anyway, baby's first Chanukah celebration with Dada's family was amazing. He met his confoundingly tiny (next to him) and lovable new cousin, was obsessed with the giant golden doodle, and was happily passed around to every family member to be spoiled. It was a blast, and I know next year will be even better. Now of course I can't wait until Christmas.
So I leave you now with a new-old addition to the Christmas Carol canon. I'd never heard this before one of my FB friends posted it today, but I not-so-secretly adore Billy Squier and decided I must co-opt it immediately. It lacks the balls-out insanity of, say, the "Rock Me Tonight" video, but it's the holidays, people.
And I do love you, Christmas or no.
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