Thanks for the input on Sam's rash. Several of you suggested I talk to Laurie. I'm sure she would know- I feel a little weird though, since I really don't know her. Asking doctors I don't know for their opinions, seems... I dunno. Tacky, maybe? Impolite? Don't they kind of frown upon such things? I did check her blog for contact information (since, you know, I'm all about the tacky and impolite) but didn't see an email. Am I blind?
Anyway, Sam's better for now. His elbow is still driving him nuts. I get him snookered up on Benadryl at night, so
I emailed all the pics I took to his doctor, who is forwarding them on to the doctor at CMH. That doctor is going to make an effort to make sure he gets in sooner next time this happens, so they can do some scrapings.
Sammy, Part 2
This part is for Sam (and his mother's failing memory), although you're welcome to eavesdrop. We'll call this part:
"What I Like About You"Sammy, these are just a few of the things you're doing lately (at 28 mos) that make me fall more in love with you every day:
- The way you count... I love listening to you count! Juan, Two, Fee, Foh, Fibe, Sick, Sebben, Eackt, Nine, Ten, Ewebben, Telb, Furtee, Fohtee, Fawtee, Nightee (I don't know what happens to 16,17,18 and 20). And watching you try to fingerspell the numbers is one of the cutest things ever! You try so hard to get it right.
- There is a female in our family who has a butterfly tattoo on the back of her hip. You've seen it. You love it (God help us). And apparently, you think butterflies just come standard on everyone, because you will spin in circles, like a dog chasing his tail, trying to catch a glimpse of your own butterfly tattoo. If I ask what you're doing, you say, "Buttfwy. Butt." Loosely translated, I'm thinking this means, "Mom, I'm looking for the butterfly on my butt. Obviously." I'm sorry, honey- you don't have one.
- Our bedtime routine: We sing 39 songs. I say, "Okay, now it's night-night time. You need to stop singing and close your eyes." You sweetly say, "Uhhhh... noooo. I can't." You squeeze your eyes shut for 3 seconds. You sing 2 more songs while I try to feign sleep. I whisper a reminder, "Shhhh. Nighty-nights. Go to sleep... I love you." You whisper, "No, fanx you... I yawz (love) you." Forty-two minutes later, you are asleep.
- When we ask you to point at different colors, i.e.: "Show me something purple... Show me something green," you will always point to something in the room of that color. But when we ask you to show us something brown, you point to your own leg.
- You love to draw sunshines with smiley faces, snowmen and letters.
- Your love of music... You are the most musical little guy I've ever seen. And you can really carry a tune, too. I've never seen such a young kid sing or hum so well. You are fascinated by music videos (we watch your favorites every night on my computer), Guitar Hero, Just Dance, iPods, cell phones- anything musical. You do the most awesome dances, too. If the guys are playing Guitar Hero, you will do these cool little moves, where you strike a pose and freeze (kind of like fat Elvis in Vegas). It's hilarious! You will often grab two spatulas to use as drum sticks, or strum one as your guitar. You ROCK, dude!
- Like any other two-year-old, you like to say "No!" and "Stop it!" But, unlike many two-year-olds, you still mind your manners. If I'm tickling you, or trying to talk to you while one of your favorite commercials is on, or otherwise being obnoxious and ruining your day, you don't demand that I "Stop it, Mama!" You say, "Stop it, Mama, please?"
- Sometimes, you'll say, "Yous uh good boy, Mama." Thank you, Sam-Sam. I think you're a good boy, too.