Business Trip

Dear Scarlett,
I am in New York, and you are in San Francisco. There is something so wrong about that. But it's true. I'm here for work and it will be a quick trip, so I keep telling myself it's not going to get that bad and I won't die from missing you. And so far (although it's been mere hours), I have not died. Saying goodbye to you at the airport was hard. Mostly because you kept swatting me in the face when I tried to kiss you, and I might have done the same thing if someone was trying to give me 387 kisses in 30 seconds.

In the airport, I experienced a complete seesaw of emotions. One minute I was happy--I'm in the airport without a baby! I don't have to worry about what anyone else needs! I'm going to be able to read my book on the plane! which quickly devolved into--What am I doing here? My arms have never felt so empty. I can't believe I have to pump on the plane.

Now here I am at the hotel, and I have just talked to Dad who reported that you had a delightful day, which included a trip to Best Buy, where you flirted with everyone who moved, and stared at the big TVs. But you have also been tugging on your ears all day, because you are still suffering from the dreaded ear infections.

Yes, it turns out you were resistant to your medication. We went back to the doctor and got you a second prescription, but you made short work of that by throwing it up all over Dad and the floor. You are now on the third medication and although it seems to be working, I am not a doctor and don't actually know if it's doing anything to clean up the raging mess going on in your ears. So I ask myself again, what am I doing here in a New York hotel when you have to go to the doctor tomorrow morning?

But the answer is, Dad can handle it. Aunt Lizzie will be there. You really do seem to be doing much better. And maybe, just maybe, I'll have my first full night of sleep here in this tiny, hot hotel room. But my arms still feel pretty empty.

I miss you,
Mom

Sick Baby

Dear Scarlett,
You are sick. And I'm not talking about the fact that you like to put your mouth on the bathroom floor, although that is totally gross. No, you are actually sick: a double ear infection that brought on your first fever and some other, Exorcist-like symptoms. We were in Lake Tahoe this weekend--your first trip there--when the trouble started. You were stuffy and wouldn't sleep. By the time we headed home Sunday, things had taken a turn for the worst. You've slept with me for a few nights now, and this morning, you spent hours in Aunt Lizzie's arms, the only place you would sleep.

I feel a little bit bad about saying this, but I love how snuggly you are when you're sick. I hate the fact that you can't sleep, hate hearing your sad little cough, and hate thinking about you in pain. But once you have taken your medicine and your fever comes down, you snuggle into my arms and it's just the sweetest thing. Normally if I try to snuggle you, you will endure it for a minute before swatting me in the face, contorting your body in order to chew on my ponytail and then launching yourself at the floor to chase the cats. So forgive me for finding things to enjoy about the past few days.

Feel better soon,
Mom

Napping with Dad

Conquering Daddy's Sock Drawer

Sittin' in a Tree

Our little Hostess

Dear Scarlett,
Nonnie and Pops just left, and you are so exhausted that you passed out on your back in your crib and are just lying there like "a fat old man"--Aunt Lizzie's words. I don't normally use this space to make fun of you, but seriously, I can see you in the video monitor right now and there is something about your hair and the angle of the camera...basically, and I swear I am not exaggerating, you bear a striking resemblance to Kim Jong Il.

Nonnie did not cry on the way to the airport, even though I know she wanted to. No matter how much time she and Pops spend with you, it's not enough (for any of us.) Still they ignore my requests that they leave their friends and family to move across the country. Maybe by the time you're reading this, we will have convinced them.

You had a great time with your visitors. First Aunt Cathy, Rachel and Anne were here and we shopped and ate and ate and shopped. The first day they were here we helped stop a shoplifter on Haight Street. I saw him leave with a black purse stuffed into his bag and told the store manager. She ran after him, and Aunt Lizzie ran after her, while I called the police. It was high drama, but the good guys won. And no one was harmed, not even the bag.



You have decided that your new goal in life is to make everyone laugh and clap, so you did a lot of Tough Guy face and So Big whenever your cousins were in the room. You like to take breaks from your meals to wave at everyone in the kitchen. Another attractive new habit is running your hands through your hair while they are full of food.



You are a big eater these days. Blueberries, broccoli, toast, and macaroni and cheese with spinach are a few of your favorite things. When offered string cheese, you laugh maniacally as if your evil plan worked, and then devour it piece by piece, stopping only to tense up your entire body and grunt until more cheese appears in front of you. Ah, you are my daughter.


Pops got to town on Wednesday and it took you about 10 minutes to remember that you are obsessed with him. He counts to 10 while he's holding you and you will often lean in to kiss him in the middle of it. You went to the Academy of Science and saw fish and butterflies, took Nonnie to music class for the first time, swung at the park and met other babies, turned 10 months, went to a Bears/Packers party, and read one million books.











It's going to seem very quiet here this week.

Love,
Mom

10 months old (and 100th post!)