Ellie has had her first ear infection at 17 months and her first dose of antibiotics yesterday. I’m pretty worried she’s not drinking enough water. To make things worse she didn’t have her nightly bottle last night because she fell asleep coming home from our friends house and she slept through the truck-to-crib transition. She’s still sleeping soundly.
A mother’s dilemma…wake her up so you can solve the issue YOU’RE worried about or let her get the sleep she needs…I’ve decided to let her get the sleep she needs. So now what to do with my anxiety? What to do, what to do, what to do…I’m assuming she will be ok until she wakes up in the morning (or in 5 mins who knows). So instead of laying awake in bed listening to Bill snore and Toby scratch his ears, I got up and did something useful. I just finished cutting up watermelon for her for breakfast. I poured water from the fridge into a glass and covered it with a plate so her water won’t be cold tomorrow. (Well I covered it with a small plate so floaties wouldn’t get in her water). Moving on…
Then I did the dishes. I went on a baking frenzy yesterday and baked cinnamon rolls basically from scratch (I had the flour from a box and added the yeast and made the filling). NOT on purpose by the way, I thought the whole cinnamon-roll thing was in bags in the box and I’d just have to slap them together. Ugh. And of course I didn’t check this before I mixed the yeast and kneaded it so now I’m COMMITTED to the rolls. But now it’s done. Then I made an apple crisp. (THAT is from scratch. And pretty easy, actually.) Not so much a frenzy as a splurge of baking…not something I could have done if Bill hadn’t been here yesterday to watch Ellie.
Still, despite the exhausting ordeal at the clinic (rectal temperature check, need I say more?) she wouldn’t nap for Bill all day and instead fell asleep in the truck on the way to our friend’s house. So when Bill asked if he could go golfing today, I was a little relieved. She didn’t drink enough yesterday because I wasn’t right there with fresh water/juice and pushing it on her like a Heroin addict with a mortgage to pay like I normally do. (And dad’s don’t think of that.) And Bill had her walking around outside while I was planting daffodil bulbs longer than I would have, especially her being sick. So today I will get a chance to rest with her, push liquids on her, get her to nap even if it’s in my arms while we watch TV. (Not going for mom of the year here, just for HEALTHY BABY!) Bill doesn’t approve of letting Ellie watch a little baby TV. (Oh he approves of him watching HIS shows with Ellie watching. That’s different…) La la la. Good thing he doesn’t read this…he’s a good lad. He’s a good egg I just like to beat him around every once in awhile. Scrambled eggs for variety every now and again, you know.
I may be getting slightly loopy.
3:04am. There’s nothing else productive I can do. I can edit my book I wrote. I’m submitting it to another publisher for rejection as soon as I’m done going through it one more time. It’s over 300 pages and I’m not an editor. It’s like asking the painter to tell you what the chemical make-up of the paints are. I DON’T KNOW I JUST WANT TO SPLASH SOME COLOR ON THIS BLANK WHITE PAGE. But when you don’t have an agent and you want to get something published you have to go over every line with a fine-tooth comb. They won’t do the editing for you. There’s too many authors, too little time. Publishing industry being what it is I should just save myself the grief and start learning how to pole-vault. Pole jump? Surely getting into the olympics is no harder than getting published (and selling real books in real hands).
Ah but that’s the 3:00am talking. And reality, but mostly the 3am. I think most people succeed at what they do because they love it (check) and because they don’t give up (working on it), and lastly a little luck. I am TOTS lucky. So, just a matter of time before Penguin Random House or HarperCollins picks up the book, publishes it, it becomes an INTERNATIONAL best seller (selling more in Germany than the US but that’s ok because it’s SELLING) and me and David Hasselhoff will ride off into the Berlin sunset together. (Well, not TOGETHER, ew.)
Ok I’m going to bed. And it’s my own fault if I dream of Hasselhoff. No one to blame but myself.