We had a good run

It took about 9 months and 3 weeks but a day I was dreading finally happened. Malcolm got sick.

An ear infection to be exact. Or ears infection because he's got it in both ears, the left being worse than the right. It's not good but it seems like it could be worse. As long as he's not lying down, he's pretty normal other than a runny nose. He's laughing and playing and crawling around and putting his hand in the cat's* water bowl, just like any other day. It's just when he lies down that it really seems to hurt. He's not taking his naps and hasn't been sleeping well or much at night. (This started yesterday, Saturday, morning.) That, coupled with Pam having a pretty bad allergy attack at the same time has not made for an awesome weekend. Meanwhile, I'm gearing up for the Austin City Limits festival and trying not to catch anything.

Today, we remembered, or actually got reminded via the virtual mistress known as Facebook, that we have a doctor friend with a family practice. A couple of phone calls and a drive out 2222 for verification that it was indeed an ear infection and we got a prescription for some meds. Fingers are crossed that it will work because Malcolm's girlfriend, Talia, is on her 3rd set of antibiotics and nothing has worked. She's getting herself chiropractically adjusted tomorrow and hopefully that will do the trick for her.

The worst thing is when he's crying and you know it's because he's in pain and there isn't anything you can do to easily relieve it. Trying to suck the snot out of his stopped-up nose with one of these helps but is so not fun for the little guy. Seriously, the sound of him yelling and the tears running down his face is damn near the worst thing ever. Sometimes when he's coming down from a big cry and I'm holding his feverish little body, it makes me sadder than anything else. Sadder than breaking up with someone, sadder than watching Shadowlands, sadder than a death in the family. Of course, I realize that this pain is temporary and for that I am grateful, but still, it isn't temporary enough.

In other developmental, uh, developments, Malcolm's got 4 teeth coming in up top. He's talking plenty lots of "ma-ma-ma-ma" and "ba-ba-ba-ba." I'm patiently waiting for a little "da-da-da-da" action. He likes getting chased around the house. Anything he's not supposed to get into, he likes getting into.

And generally, plenty of contagious laughter, with his mouth open wide and his hands slapping at whatever is within reach and his eyes full of spark and sparkle.... I got to tell you, nothing has made me appreciate life more than hanging with The Boy. And I've seen things, been places, met people, experienced this, that, and the other... plenty of things that have made me happy... but nothing like him. He's good people.

*Yes, I said "the" cat. Most of you probably know but the Boots was killed back at the beginning of the month. She got attacked by a dog over Labor Day weekend. Surprisingly, of the 2 cats, she let the boy paw at her more than Freeway, who generally runs from Malcolm whenever he gets close. The Boots would actually come up around the boy sometimes, like she wanted to lose a clump of fur (he's not so good with the petting yet). She could be a moody thing and we made her fat because we thought she was pregnant, but... she was family.

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