Thirty-two months. That’s almost as old in months as I am in years. And just like every month prior, I think the little boy you are RIGHT NOW is the best yet. How do you manage, so effortlessly, to keep getting more awesome every day?
31 months—October 27, 2009
Talking with you continues to be one of my favorite things to do. Which is good because you are a pretty chatty fellow. Not only do you talk a lot, you also have a lot of interesting things to say.
One afternoon you climbed up on a chair in the kitchen to watch me make your lunch—you love to be close to the action when we are cooking. When I was finished you looked at me and exclaimed, “Scrumptious!” It was ridiculously cute—not to mention flattering—and when asked you where you learned that word you said, “TV”.
Thank you PBS for teaching my son to appreciate the finer qualities of a PB & J with yogurt and mandarin oranges.
Speaking of PBS, a couple of weeks ago I was in the office and you yelled to me, “Mom, come here.” You wanted to tell me that Snook from It’s a Big Big World had seen a rainbow. Testing to see if you could tell me what that meant I asked, “What’s a rainbow?” Your response? “Water and sun.” Umm…wow. I was totally impressed. I half expected you to follow up with Newton’s experiment and start grabbing prisms to refract light through.
32 months—December 1, 2009
Just like your mom, you are becoming quite the technology junkie. You LOVE playing games on the iPod and I kid you not, as I was writing that sentence you came up to me and started chanting “iPod. iPod. iPod.” Which means you either picked up on my thought or we may need to stage an intervention.
Lately you have been really getting into music. You love to sing and amaze me with how many songs you actually know the words to. You also love to dance. We were recently cranking out the tunes on the stereo one day while making dinner and you were running around the living room like a madman yelling, “Rock ‘n’ roll! Rock ‘n’ roll!” The song playing at the time was I’d Like to Know by Supergrass. Which is a pretty rockin’ tune if you ask me.
Rock on little buddy. Rock on.
I was looking through an old photo album earlier trying to find a somewhat humiliating image from my past that might be good for a post about my awkward teen years. I found one—actually I found MANY—but I also found something far more significant. Something that I was looking for a month ago and never found. Probably because I looked half-assed but that’s beside the point. All that matters is I found it and I’m not going to wait another moment to share it with you.
Even if it is the end of November and everyone is looking ahead to the winter holidays. Nobody is thinking about Halloween anymore but that doesn’t really matter because… Um…
Well just look.
See that little kid in the lion suit? This lion suit? That’s me. And finding this makes me so excited I could pee a little. You see, my mom made that lion suit for me when I was a little kid. It has been worn by a BUNCH of people—me, the neighborhood kids, my brother a decade and a half later. My mom made the mane out of an old coat and it fit all sizes but she also made a separate suit for adults so my dad had also worn it at one point. I wore the costume again as a teen and JQ wore it several years ago. And then this year my son wore it.
How awesome is that?
Also, how awesome is that plastic rabbit costume my friend on the right is wearing? Wicked cool.
A couple of weeks ago you turned 30 months old. Which means you have officially passed the two and a half year mark. How the hell did that happen? Just the other day I was looking at pictures from when you were just weeks old. You as a tiny baby seems like just a moment ago and at the same time forever. Somehow, in a fleeting moment, I have become the mother of a full-fledged toddler. And I love you more than I have ever loved anything. You have days when you can be a real challenge—but you’re 2.5, that’s normal. You are becoming independent—I get that. Sometimes that independent personality lands you in timeout. Even so, right now you are the perfect age. I know I say that every month but it’s true. You just keep getting better and better.
28 months—August 29, 2009
I can honestly say you are one of my favorite people to hang out with.
Talking to you is lots of fun these days. You know and understand so much that we now have actual conversations. One day we were watching Bob the Builder together and you looked at me and said, “That guy has a beard and a mustache. That’s funny, Mom.” I have no idea why you thought it was so funny but I made you say it again because the way you said mustache was hilarious. Mus-stay-shh.
Just as good is the way you say “I love you, Mommy.” (or Daddy) without being prompted. There is nothing funny about it, just pure bliss. If I pick up my keys or my purse you ask, “Where you going, Mommy?” If I get into the linen closet you ask, “Are you gonna take a shower?” When you get up in the morning you ask for two things—something to drink and if you can “watch a little PBS”.
Like I said, we talk like two people having a normal conversation.
30 months—October 1, 2009
Every month I try to think of the cute things you do and the milestones you reach so I can tell you about them in these letters. But time seems to be moving at mach speed and the days are all blending together. I really need to write things down when they happen so I don’t forget. I know you played your Dad’s trumpet for the first time in these last couple of months—and you were pretty good at it. I know you’ve been boycotting the potty—but I’m not sure why. I know you told your Daddy he was your best friend. I know the other day you hung off my leg as I walked out the door because you didn’t want me to go to work.
I know that you are ridiculously smart.
You are incredibly cute.
You are kind and loving.
You teach me so much about myself.
You are becoming such a big boy, but you will always be my baby.
And I know without a doubt, that you are growing up too fast.
Each year for the past 7 years I’ve had the opportunity to get a set of four tickets to a Toledo Mudhens game. Free. I get to put my name next to the date I want on a spreadsheet and the tickets are mine. Easy enough. The stadium—built downtown just 7 years ago—is only a 10 minute drive from our house.
Before Tuesday I had been to only one game.
JQ hadn’t been to a single game (and we’ve been together for 9 years). Neither had G-tot.
As you can tell we are HUGE baseball fans.
This year I decided to change that. The stadium is beautiful and I thought it would be a great experience for the three of us. So I signed up early for my tickets and picked a game in late August when I knew we would be free. That night was Tuesday. I chose “Bubble Night” and the first few thousand people through the door received a mini bottle of bubbles. Score!
It was a beautiful night. We parked a few blocks from the stadium—for free—and enjoyed a leisurely walk downtown. The game started at 7:00 so we headed down around 6:00 to get in the full ball park experience. There is a kid’s play area, lots to look at—like people, and tons of food options. We shared a Philly cheese steak and some fries as a wholesome dinner. What? It’s veggies, meat, dairy, bread, and delicious. How is that not wholesome? Then we had a funnel cake. It was a huge hit.
Since it was a later game we didn’t stay too terribly long. G-tot tired meter dictated when we left and it was only about an hour into the game when it was time. That was fine. We had a great time and as we were walking out the front gates a foul ball came over the stadium wall, bounced in front of us and into the street. JQ went and grabbed it. So we got a game ball. Score!
“Let’s snuggle.” That’s what you said to me Thursday evening as we sat at the bottom of G-Gi’s staircase watching Daddy slide down the stairs on his butt. A task which you insisted that Daddy try after I had taught you that amazing new method of descending a flight of carpeted stairs just moments berfore. And why wouldn’t he want to try it? After all, sliding down the stairs on your butt is pretty cool as long as you have on some pants—or at the very least, a pair of shorts. So we sat at the bottom to watch and you asked me to snuggle with you. To which I replied with a resounding, “Yes!” as we shimmied up to one another and did indeed snuggle.
It’s times like that which make me never want to let you out of my grasp. Or let you grow up. Unsolicited declarations of “I love you, Mommy” make my heart swell and break all in the same fleeting moment. There are few words I’ve yet to hear uttered by you that could make me love you anymore. Still, those same words just reinforce the fact that you are growing up far too fast for my liking.
28 months—July 29, 2009
I mean seriously, wasn’t it just yesterday that I looked into the eyes of a helpless baby? Today you sit on the couch next to me and carry on real conversations. How does that even happen? Your only two. What’s next? Calculus? If so, you’ll have to ask Grandpa about that one—in my opinion math should have numbers in it, not half the alphabet.
What is really amazing is hearing you say something that obviously required some forethought and deductive reasoning on your part. You no longer state just the obvious. Playing in the yard last week you put three rocks together. As you pointed to each one from largest to smallest you said, “Daddy, Mommy, Gideon”. Perfect. Then you put one more tiny rock next to the other three and pointing to each one said, “Daddy, Mommy, Gideon, sister”. What!? Where did you pull that from and what do you know that your Daddy and I don’t?
Earlier this week your Daddy went outside to do some work on the house while you and I played in the living room. He couldn’t have been gone more than two minutes when he came back through the door. Without missing a beat you looked up at him and said, “Did you forget something Daddy?” Your Dad looked at me and said, “Did you tell him to say that?” The answer was no, you had come up with that all on your own. Obviously he MUST have forgotten something to come back so quickly and you needed to know if that was really the case. It was. And it’s moments like those that all I can do is smile at the wonder that is you.
I really don’t have a good segue for this, but I can’t not talk about it. And by “it”, I mean your boy bits. Your penis. Or what you call your wiener. And for some reason I get a huge kick out of hearing you say it. You know hands down that boys have wieners. And girls? Well, according to you, girls have “ginas” (as in vagina but you tend to skip the “va” part). Ginas. I love it. You also know that everyone has a butt and when we went to get in the shower the other day you got very excited about the fact that we both had nipples. Of course, mine are just a little bigger than yours.
A couple of days ago you turned 27 months old. Did you read that? A couple of DAYS. Not a couple of weeks or well over a month. Just a couple of days. Which shows what an awesome non-procrastinating mom I can be.
This one crept up on me too. I was sitting in the office yesterday and noticed that the day before marked the passing of another month of your life. It is still happening at break-neck speed. Every day you get more and more amazing. And it continues to be bittersweet.
27 months—June 26, 2009
You are all boy now. The baby is gone—except for the tiny indications like diapers and your binky. At this very moment we are sitting on the couch together watching Curious George. Which you specifically asked for. “Mommy, I wanna watch this Curious George movie. The one with the animals. Panda bear, giraffes, monkey, elephant.” I’m having a conversation with a very smart and very descriptive little human. All day long. It is incredible.
You are also starting to tell us when you need to go to the potty. We’ve been half-assed working on this for awhile and this past week something must have clicked. Maybe you are realizing that it doesn’t feel good to sit in your own pee. These are life lessons baby. Remember that always. It does not feel good to wallow in your own excrement.
You have also developed a charming attitude I like to call the Rotten Stink. You can be so incredibly ornery that all I can do is shake my head. Most of the time I want to laugh. You are like a little evil genius. You know exactly where your dad’s buttons are and are really good at pushing them. I mean REALLY GOOD. You are also going through a hitting phase that we don’t approve of. It has even landed you in time out in the crib on more than one occasion. You don’t approve of that.
This past month you’ve been pukey sick at least 3 times. Those stupid 2 year molars are coming in and they are not being gracious about it. It breaks my heart to have you sick like that but I do love the snuggle time that comes with it. Just not the projectile vomit. You are a big help though. You tell us in that sweet little voice of yours, “I gonna get sick, Mommy. I gonna get sick.” as you race to the bathroom. Thanks for trying to keep it off the floor.
I have no idea why, but I seem to have developed some sort of paralyzing anxiety when it comes to writing these letters each month. I suppose it all goes back to me believing that I’ll forget something monumental when I sit down to write. So I think about writing instead actually doing it and next thing you know I’m lumping several months together in one letter that is bound to be less than monumental. But let’s face it, you turned two over two months ago and if I don’t write something soon, I never will.
You hit your 26 month birthday a few days ago and we happened to be up at Nana and Papa’s when that day came. I knew that was going to happen and I meant to bring the monkey with us for your monthly picture but it completely slipped my mind—as many things do. So that picture is a few days late. Which coincides perfectly with my theme of untimeliness.
24 months—March 24, 2009
25 months—April 26, 2009
26 months—May 26, 2009
Crazy. I just noticed you are wearing the same pajamas in all three pictures. Totally unintentional. Seriously.
Anyway, you are one incredibly well-loved kid. It was so cute to see the look of pride in Nana and Papa as they paraded you through town. You really were like a celeb-u-tot (a term lovingly coined for you by an amazing student of mine). EVERYBODY knew who you were and had seen pictures of you. And EVERYBODY wanted to meet you. It was pretty overwhelming to you but I found it fascinating. Of course, everybody was charmed by you but the best compliment that week came from your Great Grandma M. the day we were leaving. You were playing in the yard with the rest of the family and Grandma turned to me and said, “He has been such a treat to be around.” I think it meant so much to me because truer words could not sum you up in one sentence. You are such a good boy and so, so very fun to be around. People can’t help but smile in your presence.
Right around the end of February you had ear surgery to help with all the ear infections you had been having. Now that experience was a little traumatizing for ME but you naturally were a champ and have been so much better since the operation. Which kicks butt.
You’ve become quite daring and adventurous in the past couple of months. You climb absolutely everything and are not at all afraid of heights. I used to freak out and hover over you like some lunatic mama bear. Lucky for you your father reminded me that your a little boy and I have eased up immensely. I still do this obnoxious audible gasp when you start to trip that drives your dad crazy but you are pretty free to climb whatever you want in my presence.
Some of the things you have picked up in the past couple of months crossing your fingers and saying goodbye to buddha. I think you crossing your fingers over each other is something you just do out of boredom. It’s cute to see you sitting there during story time totally engrossed in the book with your little pinkies crossed over your ring fingers on each hand. Saying goodbye to Buddha just reinforces your sweet nature that I’m constantly talking about. We have a Buddha sculpture that sits in our flower beds during the spring and summer months. This winter I set the Buddha inside our breezeway by the back door to protect him from the elements. When we enter that door you almost always give the Buddha a little pat on the head and say, “Bye, Buddha.” If you forget you will turn around and head back out the door to bid your farewell for the evening. I wonder how you’ll feel when I put him back in the gardens this year?
You talk all the time and really, really well. You speak in full sentences and most of the time I understand every word the first time they come out of your mouth. My favorite words to hear you say right now are “rhino-saurus” (for rhinoceros) and “poppy-cycle” (which of course is popsicle). Daddy taught you how to say, “Take off hoser.” which is absolutely hysterical to hear coming from a two year old. I’m partial two a couple of other phrases myself. One is “Oh gosh. Oh man.” when you do something on accident. The other you say when you want us to move out of your way. It’s “Excuse me, Mommy.” Or “Daddy” if your talking to him and it charms my socks off every single time.
You have a tendency to charm me on a daily basis. I hope that never stops.
This past Sunday we threw a party for G-tot’s 2nd birthday and the theme was dinosaurs. A few weeks before I decided to throw a party, G-tot, JQ, and I went to visit my mom and stepdad in Rockford, Illinois. In Rockford is a quaint little museum called the Burpee Museum of Natural History. There in the Burpee museum is a 21 foot restored skeleton of Jane the tyrannosaurus rex. It is the centerpiece of the museum and G-tot was quite taken with it. Since our visit there has been lots of talk about the dinosaurs he saw with Grandpa and G-Gi. G-tot LOVED the dinosaur. So, when I decided at the last minute to throw a party, a dinosaur theme seemed like a natural fit.
As an artist and a glutton for punishment I couldn’t just go out and buy invitations and decorations. No, no, no…I had to make them all myself. All within a two week time period. I threw together the invitations the morning I needed to get them into the mail and starting plotting the rest of the dino related goodness that afternoon. The ideas were plentiful but my budget was near obsolete so I had to be extra crafty in my execution.
It all started with crafting the dinosaur coloring books and didn’t stop until the night before the party when I thought of making signs that related to the food. I was out of control! It was fantastic and the details did not go unnoticed by my guests. I had so much fun planning and creating for the party. Next year I think I’ll start a little earlier. Shall we have a look at all the party goodness?
In each favor bag I put:
A coloring book. Inside are 8 pages of dinosaur outlines for the kids to color. The pages are stitched along the spine with a small piece of hemp thread.Finished dimensions: 5.5 x 4.25 inches
Four crayons tied with green, brown, and tan patterned ribbon.
A package of 5 “dinosaur eggs”. The eggs are Cadbury mini eggs put in tiny 2 x 4 inch cellophane bags which I stapled the custom label to. The font is Baby Kruffy.
A Grow a Dino capsule in a little bag with a custom label. I found the capsule in a package of 12 at the hobby shop for a couple of bucks and split them up into individual bags. The font I used for these is Bada Boom.
A small plastic dinosaur—also found at the hobby shop in a larger package of 14.
I put all of those items in large cellophane bags and shut them with the silver twist ties included with the baggies. Had the twist ties not been included I would have used the ribbon that I used to tie the crayons together.
I had several extra dinosaur egg packages that I put together for the older kids and the adults. I put all of the finished favor bags and the extra dino eggs in a basket that had some confetti made out of construction paper lining the bottom. I had originally planned on using the confetti in the bags but JQ pointed out what a huge mess that would be and in the end it didn’t add anything to the bags.
For decorations I printed a bunch of small dinosaur tracks and a few large (between 2 and 3 feet) dinosaurs and hung them on the walls. G-tot didn’t know about these until the morning of his party and was fascinated with them when he woke up that morning and saw them hanging on the walls. With each one he noticed he would exclaim, “Another dinosaur!” When he saw that there weren’t any in the kitchen he turned to me with his arms in the air and said, “No dinosaurs in the kitchen.”
While picking up supplies for the favor bags I found these wooden 3-D puzzle sculptures for a dollar. I picked up two but only the one got put together for the party. He stood watch over the food table (which I forgot to take a picture of with the actual food on it). I also made two signs at the last minute for the food table. One that said “Carnivores” that was put near the “meat” food and one that said “Herbivores” that was near the veggies and fruit. For those that are interested, that’s cilantro in the brown pot and parsley in the blue and cream pot.
The week of the party I was out shopping and found the perfect shirt for G-tot to wear. The best part? It was only $4.99. Score!
When I mentioned that I had decided to go with the dinosaur theme, my mom mailed me a Wilton dinosaur pan that she still had from when my brother was a toddler. It had to be around 16 years old and was still in perfect condition. I was a little nervous about unmolding the cake but it was easy as could be. A little awkward to frost, but I managed. I also made a 9 x 13 cake in another flavor to ensure we had enough. They were both delicious.
Everybody had a good time and all the kids were really well behaved. My mom and stepdad even drove in from Rockford for the festivities. It was a packed house and when the last guest left I was as ready for a nap as G-tot was.
You have been in our lives nearly two years, yet I find it hard to remember life without you. That part of my life just isn’t as important anymore. You are what’s important and my life has been forever altered because of you.
When I walk into the kitchen and see the door leading to the basement steps open, a little part of me panics. Even if you aren’t home. It needs to be closed because of you. That’s just the way we do it now. So much of the way our lives function on a day-to-day basis plays out in a lovely pattern because of you. Some days it is really tiring, but I can’t imagine it any other way.
22 months—January 25, 2009
In less than a week you will be two and I feel a little guilty that I’m just now finishing your 22 & 23 month letter. I’ve had it started for many weeks, but time just seems to get away from me. As I’ve said before, I’m a terrible procrastinator and prefer to spend my time WITH you rather than writing a letter TO you. And when you are napping or in bed for the evening? Well, that’s when your Dad and I do the chores around the house and spend a little time together. It’s those sort of moments that have kept me from writing this letter for so long. That and the fact that I may just be a wee bit lazy.
I keep a small running list of cute things you do each month that I don’t want to forget. Of course, many of the things you do never make it to the list since you are the epitome of cuteness every day. I can’t write it all down. In the past couple of months you have done some things that make me want to squeeze the cute right out of you.
Your Dad started making a little puppet of sorts out of his hand during dinner to encourage you to eat your food. The hand would talk to you while picking up little bits of food and pretending to eat them. You thought that was great and even went as far as naming your new little friend out of the blue one day. You like to call him “Coch-coch”—like the word “coke” with a thick “ch” sound at the end.
You talk all the time but still have trouble with your “F” sounds. I hear it is one of the hardest sounds to master and you can take your sweet time if you want. I think it is really adorable to hear you say Goosy instead of Goofy, letting us know you eat with a Sork or that you just Sarted. Especially that last one. Farts are funny no matter how you say it.
You also say “Love you” now and that makes me melt a little each time I hear it. One of my other favorite phrases you say these days is “Ummm…how about…”. You say it when we are picking out your clothes for the day or deciding on which snack to have or which book to read. The way you draw out the “ummm” and sound so inquisitive yet serious about your decision slays me. I couldn’t figure out how you came up with that until I realized your Dad and I say that to you quite often. That makes it even cuter.
We are constantly telling you to take little bites of your food—which is in direct opposition to what your Dad and I do with our food. Some how you transformed those little bites into “cute bites” when you talk about them. You pinch your thumb and forefinger together and say “cute” when that bite on your fork is too big for your liking. That’s our cue to help you get a more manageable bite for you. That’s good. Somedays I wish I had that same self control.
This one will probably embarrass you because I’m going to talk about taking showers with me, but come on, you’re just a little guy. It’s not creepy yet. Plus, you love taking a shower and it’s a great way to make sure you don’t get into trouble if I need to shower when your Dad isn’t around. Anyway, one of the new things you do when we take a shower is wash your bath toys and my feet with a washcloth. It is what we do when you take a bath, so it’s only natural that you would return the favor. You’re really sweet like that.
23 months—February 24, 2009
You have also developed this odd little dislike for shadows. It started one day when you ran out of your room yelling, “Bear. Bear.” When I went to inspect the cause of this little frenzy I was surprised at what I found. There in your room, next to your bookshelf, was a shadow that did in fact look like a bear. It was being cast onto the wall from the rocking chair, but it was enough to freak you right out. After that you did not care for shadows one bit. It took a lot of reassuring and explaining what a shadow was before you would even look at one without panicking. You’re better now, but that old bear still freaks you out a little. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.
I hope when you are an adult you read these letters and get the same warm fuzzy feeling that I do when I write them. I hope you can appreciate how awesome you are and see how much we adore you.
On Christmas Eve you turned 21 months old. I knew long before that day that this letter to you would be late. I had no idea it would end up being this late. Such is the life of a chronic procrastinator. I know I’m the only one to blame for not getting these letters done in a timely fashion, but I’m going to blame you, okay? When you are awake, all I want to do is play, read, and snuggle with you. And when you are sleeping? Well, I’m tired from all that playing, reading, and snuggling with you. You are the best distraction from life’s less entertaining responsibilities. Thanks for that.
21 months—December 24, 2008
It has been one hell of a month with you. On December 18th (Daddy’s 30th birthday) you did something so awesome I couldn’t wait to shout it out to the world—YOU POOPED ON THE POTTY LIKE A BIG BOY!!! To say that we are a little proud would be an understatement. We are thrilled. Who knew poop could be so exciting? You had a couple of incidents where you pooped on the floor—both sort of my fault—but other than that, you’ve been a champion toilet pooper. I even created a “Super Duper Potty Chart” for you. Every time you go on the potty, you get a sticker for your chart. Only if you actually GO. Just sitting on the potty gets you nothing more than a story and a little together time with Mommy & Daddy. You like the sticker chart—which hangs above your changing table—and to date, you already have ten stickers. Pretty good for a 21 month old boy. Pretty damn good.
You taken giant leaps in your development over the past month as well. You are talking all the time—and quite clearly I might add. Not just random words either. Real sentences. And your comprehension and ability to make connections to separate concepts—just WOW. Before I became a Mother, I had no idea how smart a little guy like you could be. Every day you do something that makes me exclaim, “You are so smart!” I’d like to think Daddy and I are partially responsible for that.
filling the bird feeders with Mommy
You have discovered the deliciousness known as chocolate milk and not a day goes by where you don’t ask for “Choco Malk”. If we won’t give you the chocolate milk you immediately ask for “Soy Malk”. Apparently, Vitamin D milk is at the bottom of the pile as far as deliciousness is concerned. I completely understand.
For Christmas you got an easel and a little table—two gifts I suggested that Gam and G-Gi get for you. They’ve turned out to be two of the best gifts. The table is perfect for you and beats having to toss you into your high chair or trying to do an art activity on the floor. We still do plenty of floor play, but the table just rocks. You love to create art—coloring, painting, playing with play-doh—and we do some sort of art activity every day. Seeing you in a smock (one of Daddy’s old t-shirts) painting at the easel makes me so happy. Daddy and I love that you are so fond of both art and music. Singing Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star with you at night while we rock is the perfect way to end my day. You are definitely our kid.
playing play-doh with Daddy
This month hasn’t been all fun and games for you. You been subjected to almost non-stop ear infections since October and they refuse to go away. You must have some cozy set-up in that left ear of yours because the infection seems to have moved in and hung up its cross-stitched Home Sweet Home sign. Let me just say that it sucks balls. Big, hairy balls. You’ve been on four different antibiotics and two different ear drops but nothing seems to be kicking it to the curb. As soon as you get over one antibiotic you start coughing and sneezing again. It’s heartbreaking to see you sick so often. Especially since you were never sick until you started daycare back in late September. Who knew that our consolation gift for enrolling you in school would be chronic ear infections? Seems like a pretty crappy gift to me. Daddy and I took you to the doctor’s again last Friday (with the hopes that the infection was finally gone). It wasn’t. Now we have to go see an Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist at the end of the month. Unfortunately, that probably means you’ll have to get tubes in your ears—at least the left one. That scares the shit out of me. You’ll have to be put under for the surgery. When you consider the fact that I didn’t even want an epidural when I was in labor, you can imagine that I’m not crazy about you having anesthesia at such a young age. But, I really don’t want you to be in constant pain or to lose your hearing, so we’ll do whatever it takes to make you well again. If that means tubes, well then you’ll get tubes. Both your cousins have them—so I’m blaming Dad’s genes—which I guess means you won’t be a family outcast, even with the hair.