Monday, June 23, 2008


Dear Claire,
In your 26th month, you spent almost 2 weeks feverish and sick and were only content when sprawled across my growing belly. I found myself calculating the poundage of baby and toddler pressed upon my bladder. It was more than I normally could stand. We took trips to the doctor's office, we got to know the advice nurse and you developed a fondness for red Tylenol. You were clingy, needy and unpredictable. You threw tantrums. I began to fear that this was your new personality. I'm so glad I was wrong.

Doctor's offices have a way of making mommies feel like idiots. In one of my finer parenting moments, I insisted that you definitely didn't just have a cold, spent 4 hours collecting 2 ounces of your urine and drove across town to have it analyzed. When the results came back, The Dada said I was vindicated. And I was. I know you, Claire. Every night, the last place I go before my head hits the pillow is into your room to watch you breathe. I know you.

Your illness proved to be a nice little distraction from the impending birth of your gigantic brother. It also gave me an opportunity to hold you and rock you in a way I haven't done since you were tiny. You are much too busy now for that sort of thing. But for a couple of weeks this month, you wanted nothing but me and I am glad.

Even sick, you still wanted to sit on the forklift with The Dada and "drive" the JD whenever I'd let you outside. You're hardcore.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I'm glad she's feeling better. :)