THE UPDATE YOU PROBABLY WEREN'T WAITING FOR: Noah's ear infection magically stopped bothering him as soon as the sun came up. Like a vampire. A vampire who craves xylitol gum instead of blood. That simile worked better in my head. Moving on. The doctor confirmed the infection but didn't think it warranted antibiotics, and sent us on our way with merely a prescription for some ear drops. The line at the pharmacy was too long and Noah was! too! hopped! up! onlifetheuniverseeverything! so I grabbed the over-the-counter version instead, which we haven't had to use ANYWAY, and probably won't have to until two months after they expire. Yesterday, Ezra got sick, really sick, all pathetic and snotty and puffy, with liquids oozing out of his eyes and nose. I had the distinct honor of wiping all those fluids off his face, overandoverandover, and my reward for this TOTALLY AWESOME TASK THAT I WAS ALREADY SO EXCITED ABOUT was for him to fight me tooth and nail every time. Sometimes he would sneeze on me.
IN OTHER NEWS: I've been nominated for a Bloggie. For the first time ever! This is the start of something big! Except...it's for the Lifetime Achievement one. The one that I am pretty sure is the Bloggie equivalent of a gentle little head pat and a "That'll do, blogger. That'll do. You've had a good run, now let everybody else take it from here." But I suppose if I win, officially achieving my entire life's work by age 32 could really take the pressure off the next few decades.
I doubt I will win, though, as the category is basically like, POSTSECRET vs. A BUNCH OF SITES WHO ARE NOT POSTSECRET. Still, though, my friend TJ sent me a cautionary email this morning with the subject line: NOW THAT YOU ARE WASHED UP, YOU MUST PROTECT YOURSELF. Apparently, because I am up for this Major Award, I should get my Twitter account verified:
Mark my words - mommy bloggers are the next Nigerian Uncle with millions of dollars.
Now that you've achieved an entire lifetime's worth of work before the age of 40, you are the perfect target for these shysters. Before you know it, someone will have created @amaiah and be soliciting @ replies that are totally MEANT FOR YOU.
Laugh at me if you want. If you must. But when @amaiah comes along and takes tens of people on an emotional rollercoaster of internet betrayal that stays with them all the way through their 30 minute lunch break, don't say I didn't warn you.
I'm glad I have younger friends who understand Twitter, although TJ has been blogging for just as long as I have. In fact, her old blog was one of the very first I ever left a comment on, and it was a comment about DEODORANT. TRUE STORY. I miss 2003 sometimes. It was a simple time, back then. But not as simple as 2002, when my blog was just a Word document on my Desktop. It was a really good blog. All the post titles were in Comic Sans and sometimes I would include Webdings, just for the hell of it.
Anyway. If you wanna vote for me, that would be kind of nice. If you don't wanna vote for me, that's fine too. And perhaps starting this entry with a graphic description of my baby's snot was not the best choice to sway the undecideds. And my last entry talked about poop! Oh, Christ, I really AM a washed-up mommyblog cliche. You should vote for the postcards. Sometimes they have naked people on them.