42

Most days I neither feel nor look my age. The former is due to having two little kids and the latter to good genes. But after a night like last night I feel AND look every day of 42* years old. A was up about every 40 minutes. Crying pitifully. Screaming for Mommy, Daddy, Both of Us. Wouldn't tell us what was wrong (Nightmares? Bogeyman? Appendicitis?) Finally, at about 3:00, as M left for the living room couch in a tirade of salty language, A was able to tell me that his ear hurt. Immediately (most of) my frustration, exhaustion, anger and self-pity was washed away by maternal concern. A healthy dose of Motrin and voila! he slept straight through from 3:00 - 5:35.

This morning he said he feels much better.

I, on the other hand, do not.


*M also** looks quite a bit younger than his actual age. But I am older than he is. As I like to tell him, "Dude, you were barely in your third trimester when I was born!"

**Hmm. Now that I think about it, maybe neither of us looks that young anymore. But we USED to.