Dr. Mom

A couple of days ago, the Munchkin came up to me as I sat at our kitchen table. “Ow, Mommy,” she said to me, and leaned her head onto my arm.

“I’m sorry,” I said as I kissed the top of her head, assuming that’s what was hurting.

She looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “No, foot,” she informed me, pointing to her right foot.

I bent down and she lifted her foot up. I planted a kiss on her chubby little foot and off she went, healed. My mother, who was over at the time, could not stop laughing.

The Munchkin is having a rough time of it. Her top two-year-old molars are erupting, and she has been in intense pain – fever, gum pain, the whole works. We have her on ibuprofen and Tylenol, and today I broke out the Baby Orajel (temporarily relieves pain when rubbed on gums). And when she feels like this, only Mommy can help.

The problem is, Mommy comes with an attachment called Baby Boy. This does not sit well with the Munchkin, who needs to be in Mommy’s lap and doesn’t like sharing. And at least one arm has to be wrapped around her, otherwise she’s not really in my lap.

It is amazing how much just having me there can fix things for her. Anyone could hug her and give her medicine – like her Daddy – but she wants me. While it’s annoying that I can hardly get anything done while she feels like this, I know a day will come when I can’t kiss an owie away or simply fix her problems by giving her some Tylenol and a hug. So I will cherish these simpler times for her now, and try to fill my role as doctor, psychologist, interpreter, chef and DVD operator as best as I can.

And at some point, maybe I will get to go to the bathroom by myself again. Someday.

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