Where is the mommy radar when you need it?

Just when I was thinking I had a handle on the whole mom thing... Colt has been a little under the weather all week--a low-grade fever, fussy, etc. Since his fever was never very high, and he was never really that upset, we had dismissed it all as teething or growing spurt or just still battling the cold from a week ago.

Ah, rookie mistake.

So, Saturday, while visiting my in-laws for Beau's mom's birthday, imagine my surprise when I look down and see fluid draining out of his little, precious ear! I freaked out, and took him to an urgent care place only to hear that his little eardrum had ruptured. EEK! even writing the words hurts me for him.

So we're running two different types of antibiotics, trying to keep it from crusting over, and otherwise trying to comfort the little bugger while constantly apologizing for ignoring the subtle signs of an ear infection. Now that he can sit up by himself and say "da-da-da-da-da-da" we need to teach him to pull on his ear when it hurts. Mommy promises not to miss that kind of sign.

I guess we all knew the day would come...

The other night, Beau was out of town on business, so bedtime for Bryn was less fun than usual. I was balancing Colt while reading the books and then couldn't sit and sing to her like I usually do. It was pretty lame by most accounts, but--you know what--it was the best I could do under the circumstances.

After the feeble attempt at the bedtime routine, I had barely gotten downstairs with Colt before Bryn was up and out of bed, calling me to come back up for a do-over. I ran back up stairs sans Colt to see what was the matter (and more importantly, what I could say or do to make it stop.)

Amid the "I want my Daddy"s, Bryn busted out with a first (of probably many) "I wish Colt would just go back into your tummy." I tried to explain why that was unlikely to happen, but she was pretty insistent on wishing it to be so. She really wanted him to be bigger than he is. I assured her that he was growing, but she correctly countered, "no, he's not, Mom. He's staying that size all DAY!"

I realized that my powerful analogy about how quickly hair grows was probably no match for her frustration level. So, the best I could do was just say good night and love you one more time.

After a good night's sleep, all was well again...and Bryn adores her brother as much as ever.