That’s gratitude for you

13 Nov
Poor Michael.  He has been taking such good care of me: watching Jade while trying to work, filling my cold pack with snow (and freezing his hands in the process), arranging supper (Chinese take-out, with enough left over for, uh, leftovers), and just generally being the soul of patience and generosity.  Well, there was the A&W he got for his lunch but didn’t share with me, although Jade got a couple of fries.
 
But still, he surely didn’t deserve to get kicked in head.
 
Our bedtime routine for Jade consists of having a bath, then getting into jammies and the Grobag, then reading "Goodnight Moon", then nursing, and then being put into the crib.  (BTW, she always goes in awake now, and for almost a full week has been going to sleep — and staying asleep — on her own.  I daren’t be too triumphant because every time I write about how great her sleep is on this blog, she goes and has an awful night.)  Since I can’t lift Jade right now, Michael has stayed in the room with me these last two nights to be the muscle.
 
Michael really didn’t want to stay in the room because he can’t stand sitting still and not doing anything, but I didn’t want to call for him and have the door opening and closing if Jade was just perfectly drowsy and content, so I convinced him to stay.  He brought his book with him and lay down on the floor as I nursed the baby.  The overhead light was off, as it usually is during Jade’s final feed of the night, and Michael told me to put my foot down on the floor when I was ready for him to take her.  I warned him that I might put my foot on the floor anyway, if it made my back feel better.  I figured he had his head over by the nightlight so that he could read.
 
About five minutes into Jade’s feed, my back was getting pretty uncomfortable, so I put my foot down.  Right on Michael’s nose.  He cried out — pretty darned quietly, all things considered — and curled up in fetal position, as I sat in horror.  With my foot on the floor.
 
After Jade was in bed, we left her room together.  Michael held his nose and pointed out that me saying quietly into the baby monitor, "Michael, we’re ready," is likely much quieter than, "AARGH!"
 
I’m so sorry, honey, and {for once — oops, did I write that?}, you’re absolutely right.
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