My neighbors have a boy baby a little over a month older than Josie. He is three pounds lighter and crawls, stands, and even takes a few steps on his own. When we all sit out on the front lawn he clings shyly to his mother, and Josie smiles and laughs at him, his mother, random strangers and birds over head. My neighbor and I plop our vastly different offspring in front of each other and begin our laments. I cannot hide my jealously of his ambulation or his six teeth, and silently compare his petite frame to my own daughter’s Michelin Man arms and legs. My neighbor in turn squeals every time Josie flashes her lone tooth and lists her complaints of existing in her household of three boys. She wants a girl, she worries that her son is too shy or too skinny. She is as jealous of Josie’s gregariousness as I am of her son’s ability to stand. I haven’t learned any lessons from this experience.
I was invited to a banquet and received a pin from my hospital today for five years of service. In very related news, three different people told me this week that I looked way too young to be a doctor, which hasn’t happened in quite some time now. Woo.
I’m working on Sunday, which entails leaving the house around six am and getting home around eight or nine at night. I probably won’t see Josie awake on our first Mother’s Day as a family. I’m really bummed out about this.
