Say that fast and see what it sounds like...
So my glee of Tuesday was dampened somewhat when we discovered that Hayden had slipped a cast last night. We left it on until we could call the doctor this morning and off I went to get it fixed. Hayden was reeeeeel impressed about having to go through that again, let me tell you. He started off fighting so hard that they had to remove what they had first put on and start over again. He finally worked himself into a tizzy that made him tired enough to drop off.
In the meantime, Dr. Pirani told me that he had lost some correction because of the slipped cast and that his tendon was already stiffening up. He confirmed that Hayden's feet became Atypical or Complex because of all the slipped casts he had at Children's Hospital, by showing me how the crease across the sole of his foot had reappeared. So now, back we go next Tuesday to re-cast to regain whatever ground we just lost. This also happens to coincide with what is supposed to be the first day of preschool for Kestrel. Guess that ain't gonna happen.
So today I am shaking my fist at the Universe for sending me an imperfect child. And then, really, where do I get off? It could be so much worse. So much worse. People who look after disabled or very sick children deserve medals. And treasure chests full of money. Just something this small, and completely fixable, no matter how many set-backs and it's exhausting. But perhaps I have lost perspective today because I am still so sleep deprived.
On that topic, I consulted with a dietician last night to try and get myself back on track in order to start losing some weight. When she found out Hayden still nurses most of the night and sleeps in our bed and doesn't sleep through the night, I got the following (and it was in a nice way):
1. He should be sleeping through the night at his size.
2. He shouldn't be nursing all night as it is bad for his teeth.
3. You need to try and get him out of your bed and you may have to let him cry.
Like I need another person to tell me this. Here's my rebuttal:
1. Yeah - he's DARNED HUGE - I WISH he was sleeping through the night. But Dr. Pirani told me that babies always demand "first class" and Hayden's version of that is only sleeping at his utmost whim on my body somewhere, or at least very close to it and usually with a breast in his mouth.
2. Well breast milk's gotta be better for a baby's teeth than either formula, milk or juice. Both of my girls nursed all the livelong night and their teeth are just fine. If you're gonna worry about their teeth, perhaps worry about the soother over-usage.
3. I have let him cry, many times in fact. And he has not relented for two whole hours. So unless I leave the house and let him rip for say, eight hours, I don't think it's going to happen.
She was very nice and wasn't judgemental about it, but I've heard it, like a jillion times. Anyway, I am feeling bitter and brain dead right now. Let's change the subject.
Scene: Kestrel is flipping through a large book my husband recently bought me. It's about France, so I totally encourage her falling in love with the country. Hayden is in his "exersauce" (as Kes calls it) and he was crowing with delight at some toy. Kestrel finally turns to me and says: "Mom, tell Hayden not to destroy me". I smother my laughter and do just that.
And way off track, but I knew there was a reason I liked French men so much!!