Sympathy

I find that my capacity for sympathy is inversely proportionate to the amount of energy my son drains from me throughout the day.

Today was a beating.

He’s teething and he’s got to be one of the worst teethers I’ve ever met.  He cried ALL. DAY.  He wanted to be held the entire day so that he could wail without ceasing DIRECTLY INTO MY EAR CANAL.  Nothing I did pacified him for more than 5 minutes.  He’s hungry, but apparently it hurts to eat because every time I give him something he refuses it and starts crying again.  I’ve given up on Baby Orajel because he’s not a fan of having his mouth numbed and it just makes him cry more.  I am officially WORN DOWN.

Consequently, I’m taking him to Mother’s Day Out tomorrow and letting his teachers deal with him until they call me to come pick him up because I NEED A BREAK, even if it’s only for an hour.

Jens appears to have developed an infection in his broken hand.  This was not a good evening for him to be running around filling prescriptions for antibiotics when the single thing that got me through the day was knowing that he could take Koren off my hands when he got off work.  So while I had enough self restraint and sense not to bitch about it, the level of fussing and pampering he received from me over his pain and injury was pretty low.

Koren has already woken up several times.  I can tell it’s going to be a tough night.  For him.  I’m turning off the baby monitor tonight.

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About Me

Hi. I'm Amy. I started this website in 2005 as a place to deposit my journal and photos. It has gone through a few incarnations and masquerades as a family site, but since I'm the only one who contributes to it, it's really all about ME, ME, ME.

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