First of all, I would like you to thank me for not hunting down your phone number and keeping you up all night while Boogie held the side of her head and screamed for three hours. That took a lot of restraint on my part, so instead I just pictured myself poking you in the eyeballs while you told me there was fluid in her ears but nothing you would treat.
Remember me? I am the one who cleared my entire Tuesday calendar to bring my baby in to get examined because she was obviously not feeling good then. You were the old lady wearing a seriously age inappropriate wool sheath dress and spike heels as you worked in a pediatricians office, after the holidays when a flood of sick kids came in hoping you would make them feel better. I am not hoping that one of them vomited on your Louboutins, because that would just be mean.
Guess what?! We will be back in the wee hours this morning because even after a desperate attempt to feed my daughter at 2am, who hasn’t taken a middle of the night feeding for close to four months now, she still cried and grabbed at her ear for another hour and a half. It made us all very sad then, and very tired this morning. I am actually venturing out of the house in my sweats so I can get her in to see someone before rushing around to catch up on all the work I postponed on Tuesday.
No, I am not angry, just livid-pissed. That is all.
A Mom Who Sincerely Wishes She Had Your Phone Number, and Believes That Anyone Who Wears Louboutins To Work With Children Probably Has Never Had Children