Round about 3am this morning, I realized just how grateful I am not to be a member of a group who ululates with any frequency. I think it would bug the crap out of me. You see, by this point, J had been wailing for at least the ninety minutes since I was awakened by his cries. Despite my pleas, demands, coercions and every other trick in the book, he refused to stop his freakish calls, and I was nearly catatonic with ire. Little did I know that he would continue said ululations until 6:30am, taking only a one hour break when he fell fitfully asleep. Or did I? Was he pretending to be an elderly woman on the banks of the Ganges, mourning a family member who'd just passed in tragic fashion? No! Were that the case, he should have won an Oscar, and if he does one day, for dramatic interpretation, you heard it here first.
He couldn't get to sleep which, as we all know, is an annoying affliction. Many hours into this insomnia, he accused me of not tending to his ear even though I'd heard no mention of said ear prior to that moment.
"My ear drum is bruised and killing me, and you don't even care!"
Me, groggy and peevish, replied, "How could I know that your ear hurts if you haven't mentioned that?"
"Well, you need to take me to the doctor! NOW!"
Me: "Um, doctors aren't open in the middle of the night. I've given you Advil, we'll get the Lidocaine ear drops, and that's really all I can manage until the doctor's office opens at 9."
He raged against the lack of 24-hour pediatric offices, moved into my bed, kept putting his cold feet on my legs, raged against my "butthole care" and patently refused to stop his dramatic whimper. Except when he Jekyll-and-Hyde told me he loved me.
Y'all might think I sound cold and cruel, but any mom knows when her kid is dramatizing the hell out of a situation and also when the child is delirious from lack of sleep. Both were 1000% true, and being that blood and puss were not gushing from his aural orifice, he most certainly could have bucked up a bit.
After nearly six hours, I could take it no more. Out of my mind, I woke Tom (who was in the basement after yet another endless night at work) and told him he best take over. I took Oliver to school and his holiday concert while T took J to the doctor to find that while he does have an ear infection, it is a slight one. Fine. I'm terribly sorry for his ear pain but jesus h overreaction.
Even J later said, "I kind acted crazy."
Yes, bank-o'-the-Ganges, you did.