If you don’t know that my charming angel of a son is a hellion when strapped in a car seat then you’ve never read this blog before. Or spoken to me. Or tapped my phone. We planned a trip to Reading to see Mistress Janette and Master Jules this afternoon. With no traffic the trip can take just a bit over an hour. We left at 10:15 am – Noah fell asleep right away because he was overdue for his nap. I got on the Schuylkill Expressway and it was at a crawl. Then a stop. Then a crawl. At 10:45 Noah awoke and after ten minutes of looking around started squawking and straining to get out of the car seat. By 11:15 when the crying started we were still only 15 minutes from our house. And the combination of a tractor trailor accident and construction still had traffic at a standstill for many miles ahead of us. So I called Janette and said we weren’t gonna make it. I got off the Expressway and came back home. Still trying to get over my disappointment and pissiness. Please note that when dealing with a distressed traffic and baby-harried wife – sarcasm is not the best approach.
So now we’re in for a slow day around the house. It’s probably good in a way since the last couple of days have seemed busy. Tuesday morning Mark accompanied Noah and I to Pennsylvania Hospital so I could get my wrist x-rayed. Needlessly. I had an appointment with a specialist on Wednesday for my tendonitis but for some inexplicable reason they required me to get an x-ray for the specialist to see me. Even though tendons don’t show up on x-rays. Anyway, I couldn’t really take Noah into the x-ray room nor pass him off to a receptionist so we had to get it done before Mark went to work. Since Mark’s tyrant boss is out on vacation this week Mark and his predominantly female office were kind enough to babysit Noah on their lunch hour during my specialist appointment yesterday. After freaking out both about any possible implication to nursing and my fear of needles, I got a shot of a low level steroid directly into my wrist to alleviate the pain and inflammation. It has really worked wonders. I’m almost as good as new. And Noah's growing a beard.
Last night I was thrilled to hang out with my friend Gehrett who’s visiting from out of town, as well as the world renowned Olivers. We had pizza and gin & tonics at the house and then went out for a beer. Of course Murphy’s Law states that the enchanting and giggly Noah didn’t want to go to bed at his normal time so that I could leave Mark with a pleasantly snoozing baby. Nope – Noah wanted to hang out with the company some more. “Hey guys! Where we goin’ now?” Alas he stayed home with Dad who despite his occasional inappropriate use of sarcasm is an amazing spouse and father. Since I normally nurse Noah to sleep and obviously Mark doesn’t have that in his bag of tricks, it took him a little while and a few tears shed for him to get the bedbug to zonk out. But I sure did appreciate the hour and a half I had out of the house. Almost as much as I appreciate the two lovely boys I get to come home to.