I'm typing this with a munchkin asleep on my chest. Normally I'd put her down and let her nap in her crib or bassinet, but today I need to feel her warm little body mushed up against me. We had our two week check up and though she is fine, it turns out that she broke her collar bone during delivery. Though "common" with babies who get stuck, it also happens with babies who deliver rapidly. No one caught it when she was first born, and so it healed, or is healing, in a way that TD now has a bump on her collar bone where the bones knit together a smidge unevenly. When the pediatrician said this, I valiantly managed to keep my shit together. In fact, I very calmly said, "Wow, I'm freaking out right now." I love my pediatrician and she greeted this statement with, "Don't freak out. She is great." The pediatrician went through all sorts of range of motion things and strength and stretching things and determined that TD does everything evenly. She then got her partner, another pediatrician (obviously) to check TD out and he did a bunch of exam things and also thought she did everything evenly. Which means that she is not handicapped. But still, my baby broke her collar bone. And she has an umbilical hernia. It was not what you would call a gold star visit.
Also not gold star worthy, semi-homemade Sandra Lee's Thanksgiving meal, or rather the side dishes. They look so repugnant that I am amazed that the Food Network let her make them. And yes, I realize that is totally bitchy and catty, and I realize that it might be me being bitchy and catty because I am upset about poor little Deuce. Transference anyone?