Gall Bladder Blues...

Man, what a bummer.

Lisa's GB has launched its most brutal attack so far. So brutal in fact, that it's laid my muse out in the hospital for about three days. Yeah, the pain was pretty rough when she went to the ER. But now she's safely tucked away, undergoing her medical tests / procedures and living pain-free thanks to St. Morphinius.

(Yeah, Lisa's Gall Bladder saga will probably start after her surgery....my poor sweetie.)


As for me however, my GB epic is in full swing.
You see, I've got the pleasure of looking after a nursing infant without the support of nursing implements. Oh sure, I've got plenty of bottles and sippy cups; not to mention enough milk, formula and pediasure to put a Babies R' Us to shame.

But is that good enough for baby-girl? Oh, nononononooo.
She can spot a fake blindfolded in a pitch black night....which is usually o'dark-thirty here in SLC when she wakes up lookin' for liquid goodness.
Needless to say, when dumb ol' pops tries to feed her with a bottle, she starts kicking harder than Chun-li. Good times.

Thankfully, Vince's been a champ throughout this whole ordeal. (Actually, "Ordeal" is more my label. Vince thinks of this more as "That-Time-Daddy-Was-Trippin'-'Cause-Mommy-Was-In-The Hospital" or "Saturday.")
In all seriousness, Vince has been incredibly cooperative, helpfuland even supportive. Nine years old and he still finds ways to surprise me. I'm getting that boy a Sundae when this blows over.

What's really lifted my spirit though is how much folks have been looking out for the Kids and I. We've gotten tons of phone calls and favors from all my friends and neighbors. Heck, we even had one of my Cub Moms grab us a pizza and agree to watch Amy on Monday for the first day of Spring semester classes. (What a peach! She gets a gold star in my Cool Book.)
I've got to admit, it's nice to feel the love. Thanks to everyone for thinking about us.

In the end, I imagine this is one of those adventures in fatherhood that I'm going to laugh about when I'm old and grey. (Well, old-er and grey-er.)
Nonetheless, this whole experience has given me a newfound respect for my wife and what she endures. Amy's perfectly content with Daddy when its daytime. But when it's dark, no one but Mommy will do.

"Mother" really is the word for "God" in the mouths of infants.

Gotta go. Amy's waking up.