Hello sweet sleeping bear! You’re all snuggled down in your crib with the mandatory two pacifiers (in case you lose one during the night) and a stuffed animal. Tonight it’s your stuffed dog, or “oof oof” as you call him.
You are so cute.
Can I just tell you how cute you are?
So very cute. And very big.
Aside from our episode of bronchitis, the last month has been a lot of fun. You are walking and talking and feeling quite independent. In fact, walking is one of your favorite things to do – right up there with eating and reading books.
But I wasn’t prepared for this little independence streak to come so soon. Not only do you love to walk, but you want to do it ALL BY YOURSELF THANK YOU VERY MUCH. We’ll be strolling along the sidewalk, and all I see in front of us are land mines of cracks in the concrete and the curb and all sorts of tripping hazards. I reach for your hand to help keep you steady and you yank it away with a little “Uhhh!” A little grunt of protest. You shake your hand like I have tried to give you cooties.
When we went to the beach with Nana, you were thrilled with all the wide-open space in every direction. You played in the sand a little, and tolerated us putting your toes in the water, but most of all you just wanted to walk and walk and walk with the ocean breeze in your face.
And although you’re walking pretty fast now, it still takes us a long time to get from point A to B because you have to stop all along the way to clear the ground of small objects. Acorns. Leaves. Pieces of trash. You often stop when you spot these in your path, stoop down and pick them up, then hand them to me or your Daddy. You’re my little cleaner. Making the world a tidier place one acorn at a time.
You’re also talking more now, and it’s adorable. But I’ve begun to notice a pattern lately. Like a true southern belle, you have a way of turning one-syllable words into polysyllabic ones. I think you’re developing a southern drawl. For example:
Bah-wel = Ball
Mah-wer = More
Here are some more (mah-wer) of your favorites:
Burr = Bird
Boot = Book
Dye-a-purr or Bye-a-purr = Diaper
Bey-purr = Paper (very similar sounding to diaper)
Fzzz = Fish
Chzzz = Cheese
Shzzz = Shoes
Bah-bum = Bottle or cup
Ba (or Bot) = pacifier
Meh-moh = Elmo
Mama
Daddee
You also really like to say “Gah!” but I haven’t figured out what that means yet. We both enjoy communicating. I think it’s really cool that we can actually talk to each other, even in such a rudimentary way.
This month I rearranged a couple of the kitchen cabinets, and made sure there was one you could play in without destroying anything. It has tupperware in it, along with your bibs and a basket of toys too. It keeps you occupied while I cook. You love this cabinet because it’s the only one without a shelf, and has the added benefit of being large enough for you to climb into. Which you do. It’s your little Cami den.
One thing you don’t like AT ALL – having your hair washed. Every night you enjoy your bath until Mama has to ruin it by shampooing your hair. You cry and sob and cry. The thing is, I probably wouldn’t feel like I had to wash it every night if you didn’t LOVE to run your hands through your hair when they’re covered with food. This happens at nearly every meal. You’ll get your hands good and gooey, then just reach back and start working the food bits into your pretty golden hair. I got this picture of you one recent day after lunch. I didn’t do anything to enhance the look -you get all the credit for the ‘do.
But two of my favorite things you’ve really caught on to this month are hugs and eskimo kisses. You have been giving wonderful hugs for a long time, but now you understand the word too. You’ll give us hugs when we ask, and you LOVE to hug your animals. If you’re holding one, I can say, “Camile, will you give Tigger a hug?” And you’ll grasp him to your chest and rock back and forth like he’s a baby. But you don’t just wait for our command. Nearly every time you pick up a stuffed animal, it gets hugs. We call an eskimo kiss “uhga muhga,” and you understand that too. I can say it, and you’ll lean in with a little grin on your face. It warms my heart every time.
Thanks for being such a sweet, fun, and loving girl. I love you so much sweet Camille. Uhga muhga.
I’ve said it before and it’s still true – I crave the company of other girlfriends with babies. The kind you can call up at the last minute on a Saturday morning and say, “hey – wanna bring your baby over for a play date?” I enjoy watching Camille play with other kids, and I like having a chance to talk to other moms, who always end up teaching me so much. I have a few friends like this, but play dates must involve long road trips or airplane tickets.
What’s infinitely frustrating is that I meet moms with kids all the time. Moms who seem very nice, who’s children seem well-adjusted, who seem like great candidates for a play date. I meet them in line at the grocery store, in the park, at the coffee shop – they’re everywhere! But then they’re gone, and as I push my cart away from the grocery store line I think how much I would have liked to exchange numbers. But I chicken out because I don’t want to seem desperate. I’m scared of rejection.
For months now, Lee has been threatening to get me “friend cards.” Kind of like a business card but for social settings. Something with my number that I could hand to another mom in case they wanted to try a play date too. Several times lately, we’ve walked away from a couple, and he’d inevitably say, “You could’ve given her a friend card!”
Well now, I really could. Because he had some made for me.
And they’re adorable. They are small – about the size of a half business card. There are a hundred of them, each featuring one of 30 different photos of Camille. Here are several scattered across our table:
Each one is so cute, so friendly and sure to make anyone smile. The pictures just might be effective enough as ice breakers that I could consider actually handing one out to someone. I mean, who wouldn’t want her precious picture, even if they never intended to call? On the side opposite the picture, the message is simple, “So nice to meet you!” Then it has Camille’s name and mine, and our phone number.
I really don’t know if I’d ever dare give someone my card. But I put a few in my wallet and my diaper bag just in case. Maybe they’d think it was funny? Maybe they’re looking for new friends too?
Even if I don’t distribute them, they’ll still be fun for me to keep. Lee was so sweet to order them, to comb through all the photos, to take on a project to help me connect with other moms. He’s a keeper for sure.
My mom left yesterday after spending four days with us – four fun days spent playing, laughing, and generally doing whatever Camille wanted to do. It had been 3 long months since mom had seen her. The last time she was here, Camille wasn’t quite walking. Now she rarely seems to stop.
I enjoyed catching up with mom, talking about everything and nothing, falling asleep on her shoulder on the couch. Mom and Cami had some time to catch up too, since mom was nice enough to get up with Camille and let Lee and me sleep in a bit. The girls reminded me of two kids at a slumber party. When Nana was fixing her hair in the morning, Camille wanted to get fixed up too, so they played dress up.
They went shopping. They went to restaurants. They went to the park. Saturday, we went to the local aquarium, and Sunday to the beach. It was a beautiful day – perfect for a walk along the shore. Which is exactly what Miss Camille wanted to do, as evidenced by this huge, open-mouthed smile.
And the two shared lots of hugs and kisses – especially sweet eskimo kisses like this one:
And it’s official: Camille loves her grands. More than just about anything (except cheese – it’s still #1). It’s been the same with them all – if they leave the room, she wails. If they enter the room, she’s done with Mama and reaching for them. But I understand. They are pretty awesome. I miss them very much.
When we picked Camille up from baby school today, she was wearing a fresh outfit and the clothes we’d put on her this morning were wrapped in a plastic bag. This is not unusual. She loves to play with her food and her milk, so she often requires a wardrobe change at some point during the day.
Last week, she was promoted to the next class at baby school. One of the biggest changes is that this class usually takes a trip to the playground twice a day. Last week, those trips were rained out, so this is really her first week to explore this new territory.
Apparently, it was quite an adventure. Once we got home and I opened the plastic bag, this is what I found:
I’m not sure what this means. Either she rolled around in the dirt and had so much fun, or she fell a lot on the uneven turf and resorted to crawling around. Or maybe those two things don’t have to be mutually exclusive. I’d like to think these dirty clothes are evidence of a baby who played hard and had fun.
She’s walking so well now – most of the time. But like all babies, gravity still gets the best of her occasionally. We have been taking an evening stroll most nights lately, and usually let Camille get out of the stroller and walk around when we get to one of our central neighborhood parks. She loves this, and when she first spots the park as we approach, she starts reaching her hands out to it, kicking her feet and getting excited. Tonight was no different – in fact it was even better than usual because there was another child playing on the sidewalk and a DOG! And a BALL! Camille was happily toddling around when she stumbled and fell. She started to cry, and when she lifted her head there was blood on her lip. I was calm, hoping she’d just scraped her lip a little, but her Daddy scooped her up and the bleeding got worse and worse. There was so much blood that I wasn’t very calm anymore.
That was a long walk home. We never did see exactly where she hurt herself, and all of her 6 teeth still appear to be intact. I think she may have bitten down on something in her mouth – a cheek, a gum, something. But she was so upset, and even though I realized she wasn’t in mortal harm, I don’t ever want to see my sweet girl covered in her own blood.
She’s sleeping now, thank goodness, and I hope she wakes up tomorrow and forgets it all ever happened. I hope when we take our walk, she’ll still be excited to scramble out of her stroller and try out her legs. I know bumps and scrapes and even a little blood are part of being a kid, so I guess incessant worry is part of being a mom too.
Happy 500th blog post, Gummibunny!
Two of Camille’s favorite things are walking around outside and dogs, so Lee and I knew Octoberfest would be a hit.
This morning, we wandered up and down Riverstreet through a sea of Dachshunds and their owners getting ready for the annual wiener dog races. The few bleachers were already packed and the dogs are pretty low to the ground, so unfortunately we didn’t actually get to watch any of the races. I don’t even know how early you have to get there for a spot on the bleachers. But we still enjoyed checking out all of the dogs congregating around the race area, and Camille was able to pet several.
Then, we went to Sterling’s first birthday party, which was a lot of fun. I tried to get a good photo of Camille and the birthday girl, but they were a constant blur of motion. I did manage to snap this one, and it looks like Camille is playing King of the Pillow.
She seems to be feeling better, thank goodness. Today we did the last two of her breathing treatments. We still have a few more days of antibiotic, and then I’d love to be done with medicine for a while. But my pediatrician warned me. On the one hand, she said all of Camille’s illnesses are normal for a daycare baby, and that each year she’ll grow stronger and it’ll get easier. She also said to brace ourselves for a long hard winter this time around. But, her prediction (and our hope!) is that by the time Camille is three or four, she should have a great immune system and be the strongest kid on the block.
As we signed in at the doctor’s office, the lady behind the counter asked me Camille’s name. When I told her, she said, “I should’ve known that.”
The other worker added, “Yeah, she’s one of our frequent flyers. We see her a lot.”
I wish you got some sort of prize for this frequent flyer program. But today we just got more medicine. More worries. More frustration.
Camille has been sick the entire month of September, and October isn’t starting so well. I’d be willing to bet she’s been sick more days than she’s been well since about April, when she first began getting ear infections. Now before I get too pitiful let me remind myself – although she’s been sick, it’s sometimes as mild as a runny nose. Annoying, but not alarming. But we’ve had our share of some tougher times too.
For the last 3 weeks, Camille has had a cough. She doesn’t cough all the time, but when she gets going, the gurgly cough just goes on and on. It happens most often at night, and has woken her up many times. Her cough is accompanied by a runny nose and – alas – runny ears. Five days after her surgery to put in the tubes, her ears began draining. On the one hand, I’m glad all that fluid has somewhere to go and isn’t just building pressure behind her eardrum. But it means she’s still having problems. The tubes weren’t a magic fix to keep her ears clean and dry. So they’ve been draining for 2 weeks now, despite the antibiotic drops. Despite my wishes.
Then this morning, she threw up. Lee and I had finally had enough, and decided to take her in to the doctor. I’d been trying to wait out the cough, not wanting to show up only to be told it was a cold that had to run its course.
Except it’s not a cold. It’s bronchitis. The doctor wanted to do a breathing treatment there in the office, and Camille tolerated it okay as long as we read books to her to keep her occupied while the mask over her nose and mouth misted her lungs with medicine. The doc checked her breathing, and decided she needed another treatment. By this time, our little girl was tired of it all. She writhed and kicked and swatted and screamed until she was red in the face while I held her down and Lee held the mask. Nothing we did helped. She was so upset. I wondered if it was worth it.
And now we are the lucky owners of a nebulizer, so we can continue doing the breathing treatments at home. Even in the middle of the night.
Of course I don’t want to do them because she hates it. But even more than that, I find the whole thing frightening. Ear infections were a pain, but they didn’t really scare me. But breathing… breathing is a different story. I was terrified when the doctor said Camille had to work extra hard to get oxygen in and out. That’s just not an option. That’s not okay.
So we’ll do the breathing treatments. We’ll load her system up with 5 different prescriptions. We’ll do whatever they say we should do because we need her to be healthy.
Leaving the doctor’s office, I was so upset. I realize bronchitis is not the worst thing to ever happen to a child. I know there are many moms and dads who watch their children suffer through diseases and diagnoses much more heartbreaking.
But I’m just weary. I think it’s not so much the bronchitis. It’s the bronchitis on top of the ear infections/surgery on top of the strep on top of everything else. I’m tired of watching my baby girl be sick. I’m tired of canceling play dates and avoiding friends for fear of getting their children sick. I’m tired of wondering if every whimper is the signal of another ailment. I’m tired of the medicines that don’t seem to help. I’m tired of being a frequent flyer.
And I’m worried about work. My employers have been wonderful and very understanding. Every sick day has been approved without question. I’m allowed to come in late or leave early to take Camille to the doctor, because they know I’ll work nights and weekends to catch up. But I feel like I haven’t been a good employee for a while. I haven’t been able to focus, and my work is beginning to pile up so high I can’t see the top. And it’s heavy.
Tonight, I’ll let them know I have to be out for a few days until the breathing treatments are finished and she’s well enough for baby school. It would be an easier conversation if I felt like I’d jump right back into my work as soon as she felt better. But the way things have been going lately, I wonder if next week it’ll be something else. And then the next week, some other diagnosis, medication, treatment. I think I banked a lot of goodwill at work, but I’ve been making so many withdrawals I wonder how much is left.
So I’m worried about me, I’m worried about Lee (who is feeling incredible stress about his work as well), but most of all I’m worried about my baby girl. We’ll sneak into her room around midnight and try to give her a breathing treatment in her sleep. I wish we didn’t have to, but at least it gives me a chance to look at her and know she’s breathing. I’ll take it.
I had an opportunity to go to a conference for work this week in Baltimore, and was very lucky to have Lee as my traveling companion. When I wasn’t in conference sessions, we did some sightseeing and good eating and had a little mini-vacation. Just the two of us.
We decided Camille was old enough and we just might be brave enough to leave her with grandparents while we took a quick trip. Grammie kept her the first day and a half, and Granddaddy spent the last day with her. I knew she’d be fine – in fact, she loves her Grammie so much that she didn’t even want to hug me good-bye. She clung to Grammie’s neck and waved at us. Like, “Get out of here already so we can play. Are you gone yet? Why are you still here? Don’t you have a plane to catch?”
It wasn’t her, it was us I worried about. Driving away, I felt like part of my soul was missing, and I guess in a way, it was. We’ve traveled a lot with her and she’s a great traveling buddy. But at the same time, I think it’s important for Lee and I to have some time as a couple too. It felt strange to walk through the airport without a stroller, and to have an actual PURSE instead of a diaper bag. I was okay as long as there weren’t babies around, but each time I saw or heard one, I missed mine even more.
But I must say, lingering over meals was nice. Sleeping in was very nice. My little early riser gets us up around 6 many mornings, so when I woke up at 8:48 I felt like I’d gotten away with something magnificent! I made some coffee and peeked out of the window. We’d somehow gotten a great room at a great rate in a hotel right on the harbor, and this was our view:
We managed to squeeze in a tour of the National Aquarium, which was awesome (although Camille would have LOVED it and it was probably the time when I missed her most). My favorite part of the aquarium was this:
National Aquarium from Ginger on Vimeo.
They have a dolphin show, and I love love love dolphins. There is just something about watching them that turns me into jelly. They are so beautiful and graceful and just amazing. In fact, I think I need to see a little more:
Dolphin Frolic from Ginger on Vimeo.
Another highlight was the Orioles game at Camden Yards. We could walk there from the hotel, and the stadium was really nice. There weren’t many people there, which was actually kind of good for us because even though we bought cheap seats, we could sit wherever we wanted. There were no lines for concessions or the bathroom, so we felt like we had the place to ourselves. And the funnel cakes.
On the way back to the hotel, we noticed the marquee outside the church that stands right beside the stadium, and had a good laugh. These people take their baseball seriously, and I guess they’re hoping God does too.
I totally wanted to ride by (stalk) Charm City Cakes, the place where they tape “Ace of Cakes” for the Food Network. I love that show. I imagined myself hanging out on the sidewalk – I didn’t plan to barge in or anything – and just happening to be there when one of my faves came out. And then I’d gush on and on about the show, and look like a total idiot. Fortunately for all the people at Charm City Cakes, we didn’t have enough time to play paparazzi.
It was a fairly quick trip, but just right for our first real outing away from Camille. We had enough time to recharge our batteries and feel like a couple, but not so long that we became miserable about being away from our sweetiepie.
I was mad at us though when I starting going through all our photos tonight. Not a single photo of the two of us. Yes, it’s hard to get a photo when you’re traveling without anyone else there to snap it, but I’m not usually shy about asking a stranger to take a photo. I meant to, but we just forgot. We did manage to get a photo of each of us separately, and I thought it was funny how well the photos captured a bit of our personalities.
Lee – next to the R2D2 Post Office box outside Camden Yards:
And me – dork of the century, totally geeking out next to the dolphins and contemplating going back to school to get my marine biology degree so I can be a dolphin trainer when I grow up. Except I’m not very good at science.
Hello sweet girl, and Happy 14 months! This last month has been such an up and down ride for all of us. I have loved watching you grow, watching you respond to us and communicate with us, watching you explore. I’ve also watched you struggle with sickness and medical procedures, and it breaks my heart every time those really big crocodile tears fall from your soft blue eyes. But, although this hasn’t been our healthiest month, I’m happy to tell you we’ve still had more good times than bad.
This month you really seem to be picking up on more and more words, and making the connection to actions or items. And a lot of this you have figured out without our prompting. One night after your bath, you were a little fussy because I was apparently taking far too long to get you in your pajamas. I handed you a brush as a distraction technique, and after eyeballing it for a minute, you started brushing your hair. It was so cute! Now, anytime I have a brush or a comb I can say, “Cami, do you want to brush your hair?” and you’ll brush those golden strands for a long time.
The other day, I’d just finished changing your diaper and, like always, squirted some hand sanitizer in my palms. I usually follow this by saying, “We clean our hands after we go to the potty,” hoping if I start the messaging early it’ll be ingrained in your memory. Apparently it worked (even sooner than I’d hoped!), because before I had a chance to utter my clean hands mantra, you started rubbing your hands together just like I do! Now, almost every time I change you, I can just say, “Clean hands!” And you’ll rub your hands along with me. You’re so cute! And smart! And hygienic!
But one word you apparently don’t care to say anymore very often is Mama. But what you do instead is pretty cute, so I find it hard to be upset. This is how the conversation has been going lately:
Me: “Camille, can you say Mama?”
Cami: “Daddeeee!”
Me: “Say Mama.”
Cami: “Daddeeeee!”
The thing is, I know you can say Mama, and every now and then you let one slip. But you mostly just say “Daddeee!” with absolute glee and affection. And it doesn’t hurt your Daddy’s feelings one bit.
Speaking of affection, you are such a little love bug! You have always enjoyed hugs and cuddles, and you’ll still respond to me with a big, loud kiss when I tell you I love you. Your love is not just reserved for family – you seem to just love people in general, but especially other children. Last weekend, we were visiting your Aunt Erin and Uncle Dave in Miami, and took you to a neighborhood playground. You crawled up on one of the playsets where a 2 year old was already playing. We didn’t know this child, but you managed to back her into the corner of the playset and kept holding up your arms for a hug, leaning in closer until she’d tentatively push you away. She wasn’t trying to be mean, she just wasn’t sure she wanted to cuddle with a perfect stranger. You, on the other hand, just wanted a hug! I thought it was adorable, and I’m proud of you for being such a loving soul. I know one day you’ll have your heart broken when/if your love isn’t returned, but I think you’ll gain much more than you’ll lose by being a loving person. So keep it up, little love bug!
We all had so much fun in Miami. We went shopping, took walks (you love to walk and are doing SO well!), ate good food, played games and really enjoyed each other’s company. But your favorite part was the trip we took to Monkey Jungle. We spent several hours there watching all the monkeys running around, and you’d ohhh and ahhh at all of them, pointing to be sure we saw them too.
You spent some of that time walking, and some of it riding in our new backpack, which was very handy. It gave you a good vantage point to see all the activity, but kept you out of the dirt. It also has a sun shade, which was really beneficial when the monkey overhead peed on you and your Daddy. Thankfully, it just dribbled down the sunshade. If it had gotten all over you, I might’ve had to hunt down a monkey and break its legs. You also loved it when your Daddy swung you around like a little monkey.
You still love books just as much as last month if not more. I read a recommendation somewhere that parents should read to their children at least 10 minutes a day. I’ve often wondered if there is also a maximum recommendation. How much is too much? 4 hours? Okay, so I’m exaggerating, and I promise I’m not complaining. I love reading and I’m glad it’s something you seem to love too, at least for now. Here you are with Nikki and Baby Ella on our Tybee vacation, enjoying another book.
Your absolute favorite book these days is actually a scrapbook Aunt Erin made for you on your birthday. Anytime you see it, you’ll beg us to read it (and cry if we don’t!). We flip through the pages and look at all the pictures. You’ll even sign the word “hat” without being prompted when we come to the page where you’re photographed with a hat on your head. Smarty pants.
Your hair is still like baby hair, but it’s beginning to get longer (and maybe a little curly on the ends? Too soon to tell). Last weekend, I was able to get two little pigtails. Even though they were tiny and the rubber bands quickly slid off, they were still cute while they lasted!
They made you look so grown up. Just like this picture makes you look grown up:
And while I’m constantly amazed by how quickly you grow and change, you’re still my little baby. When you were at the hospital Monday, you seemed so tiny and so helpless and way too little to have to go through such a grown up ordeal. But you pulled through just fine, and I’m happy to say the experience didn’t upset you for long. Thank you for all the giggles and laughs; they heal my soul when it hurts for you. Thank you for being the loving little girl you are, and for sharing that love with your Mama. I love you.
It was a long, tough morning but Miss Camille pulled through her surgery well and I don’t think any of us have permanent scars. I think the worst part for her was that she was hungry and couldn’t eat and certainly didn’t understand why we weren’t giving her a bottle of milk and some cheese toast.
We got her up a few minutes after 6 to take her to the hospital, and she was so cute and snuggly. She was content to rest against us with her head on our shoulders and sigh and grunt and do all the cuddly things sleepy babies do.
Once we were taken to our pre-op room, she started to wake up more and get agitated. We read her book after book which kept her from crying, until it was finally time for them to take her back around 8. That was hard, watching them wheel away holding my precious girl in her little hospital gown with her polka dot pajama pants peeking out underneath. But at the same time, I was just ready for it to be over.
Lee and I watched the clock. I made coffee because it gave me something to do. When they paged us, we eagerly found our post-op room and waited for her to arrive.
They wheeled her into the room in this metal crib and she was lying face down on a pile of blankets, whimpering. It was the saddest thing. When I started to pick her up she began to cry, her eyes still closed, clearly not wanting to be messed with by another stranger. Then, she looked up and saw her Daddy and me, and her cry changed. It was a wail, but the kind that says, “I know you, where were you? Fix it! Fix it!”
For what seemed like ages, she cried and sobbed and cried while Lee and I tried to soothe her. They said she shouldn’t be in any pain, but I wasn’t so sure. They wanted her to drink apple juice and pedialyte, even though I tried to explain she HATES pedialyte, and this made her even more angry. The doctor said she’d gotten “pretty upset in the back,” and I felt so sorry for her. It must have been frightening to be in an operating room with strange lights and sounds and people, with no familiar face in sight.
This was the hardest part. I was so glad to have my little girl back in my arms and to know she was safe, but it broke my heart to see her so upset. She seemed traumatized.
Finally, a nurse brought us a couple of packages of graham crackers. As soon as she gabbed one and shoved it into her mouth, she began to calm down. By the second bite, her breathing still came in little sob-like gasps, but she wasn’t crying. A few seconds later, she popped another cracker into her mouth and gave the nurse a big grin. The transformation was miraculous!
Apparently, my baby was hungry.
Once we got her home, she perked up and seemed like her old self again, although a little worn out from the ordeal. She took a big nap, then we went out for ice cream and some grocery shopping, then played at home and took a long stroll. We got lots of laughs, smiles and hugs. Her Daddy and I are worn out too, but I’m just so glad it’s over. I hope and pray the tubes do the trick, and we are done with ear infections for a while.
I was somehow disappointed and relieved all at the same time today when the doctor announced that Camille needed to have tubes inserted in her ears. I had prepared myself – after all, she’s had 2 ear infections back to back during a summer month when babies don’t normally get ear infections. But the news still made me sad.
On the one hand, I want her ears fixed. I’m tired of the ear infections, and I know she must be really tired of them. I don’t want to keep pumping her full of antibiotics that aren’t working. I don’t want her ears to hurt anymore.
But a little part of me hoped he might have some other, better solution. That wasn’t to be. So if he believes tubes are her best option, then tubes it is. As much as I don’t want her to go through the surgery, I also didn’t want him to tell us to just wait and see if she gets some more infections and send us out, with me feeling certain the next fever, earache, antibiotic shot and ensuing diaper rash were surely on the way.
She’s scheduled to have it done in a week. They say the procedure is very simple and should only take a few minutes. They say it’s so mild she could even return to daycare that afternoon (which she won’t be doing because I want to keep an eye on her). I know others who’ve had the procedure done on their children with much success. I’m hoping for the same results for Camille, because the little girl needs a break.
