a calm between storms.

Claire has had a hard couple of days. It has been ridiculously hot around here. At our house we call this weather Temecula on Earth. Don't let the flashy website with the hot air balloon fool you, that town is out of control hot. Miserable. Claire has spent much of the last two days uncomfortable and crying or doped up on baby Tylenol. At first we thought she might be teething, then we started to suspect an ear infection. Thursday, she went on a hunger strike, which was less than fun for both her food supplier and herself. I called the pediatrician, who suggested Tylenol and various teething soothers. She seemed a little better and then not.

I took this shot after she had tired us both out crying. The strange thing with babies is that just when you start to feel a little confident, they go and change their routine without discussing it with you. And I so liked her little routine. This week has motivated me to study this book. How amazing will it be to know what she wants. For her to be able to say, "Mom, I want a drink of water." Instead of us trying half a dozen things before finding the one she was asking for. Crying is such ineffective, frustrating communication. It's hard not to take it personally.

Somedays it would be so much easier for me to go back to working full time. To wear regular clothes and to be paid. To sit in some cubicle like a veal doesn't sound so bad some days. Then I look at her tiny hands and feet and even when big tears slide down her cheeks, I am grateful to be the one to comfort her. Look at her in those tiny polkadots, I am grateful.