Happy 7 month birthday, Helen

Dear Helen,


A few days ago, you turned 7 months. You celebrated by failing your newborn hearing screen for what, the seventh time? This test was performed by an actual audiologist (unlike most of the tests which have been performed at the pediatrician's office by a nurse who seems only semi-comfortable with the equipment). After the failure, the audiologist used another machine to see if you had fluid in your ear and yes, you still have fluid in your ears, which causes a test failure. Given your history of repeat failures, she suspects this fluid might be the same fluid that was there months ago when a different audiologist tested for it. Lucky for us all, it never got infected. But, it needs to go, so we're going to see the ENT next week. During the exam, when it looked like you were failing, I looked up at the audiologist and said "Oh geez, does this mean another failure?" and she said somewhat somberly "yes", and I looked at you and said "don't you remember last night when I told you that you had to pass the test today so you wouldn't have to be sedated for the more complicated test?" and you smiled, and I said "of course not, you couldn't hear me!". The audiologist muffled a laugh and told me it wasn't nice to mock you. But hey, she had just gotten done telling me your hearing is muffled, as if you're under water. She was probably saying under her breath "I told you this would be a waste of time and I'd end up just telling you to do the sedated test again" but...it wasn't a total waste of time because my panic about sedating you caused her to refer you to an ENT rather than to do the sedated test. Please, Mr. ENT, have some miracle that gets fluid out nonsurgically.


You have always loved toys, and this month, toys with tags were superior to toys without tags. This is in stark contrast to Connor who always wants tags cut off. Lucky for you, several survived the infant toy phase for you to enjoy. Not sure how many tags you'll find in the next set of toys though. Sorry about that.

You babble, and babble, and babble and really, Helen, would it be so hard to pause every now and then so Connor and I could get a word or two in? And, do you really have to say "da da da da" all day long? Could you toss me a bone with a "ma ma"? Please? Or, as your brother says "pretty please with lots and lots of sugar on top"? You don't actually have any words, but you have lots of sounds and sometimes Connor will talk in about the same manner you talk and you seem to get endless joy out of this. I hope the two of you are not planning some sort of coup.


Your sleep has been horrible, which means my sleep has been horrible, and your dad's sleep has been horrible. And, finally, today, I took you to the doctor and told him I was so tired I couldn't even think straight and babbled endlessly about every theory I had and at the end of the visit, he gave me some suggestions and, knock on wood, you had a fabulous afternoon nap and so far, your sleep tonight has been great. Hopefully, you are turning the corner. And yes, Linda, I know I just jinxed myself and you are busy banging your head into the computer wondering if I will ever understand that some things - like "my child is sleeping well" - can never be muttered out loud. Hopefully that bruise on your forehead will go away soon.

Bathtime has become a lot of fun of late. You're good enough at sitting that you can sit there on your little sponge and splash away. Tonight, you bent a little too far over and planted your face in the water, but it didn't bother you. I scooped you up quickly and you went right on splashing - though Daddy announced he would take over. (He claims it was because he didn't want a piece of cake, which Connor was asking for, so he preferred to deal with you in the tub than with Connor and the inevitable mess. I think it was to protect you.)

Last Saturday, we were hanging around outside on the deck with some friends, and you were sitting on a blanket playing. Connor came by, which made you absolutely laugh, and the two of you sat and played in your weird little way for quite some time. A friend of mine asked if y'all do this often and yes, is the answer. Every day you and Connor play in your own world. And as an outsider looking in, I can report that your world looks really fun.

You still have the ability to light a room, Helen.

Love,
Mommy