Noisy to Baron

Of late, Miles is obsessed with firefighters. It all started when my aunt bought him a book about firefighters for his birthday. We read the book several times a day for weeks. We still read the book often. And now we dress up like the firefighters and put out "fires" all over the house. Miles runs around with a plastic ax yelling "Mattie (our cat), I'm rescuing you from the fire! The fire is really, really dangerous because it's really, really hot!" Other times he rescues Baron or Boris or me. One night before bed Miles and I read the firefighter book and I ask Miles if he'd like to visit the fire station in the morning. His eyes widen. "I want to go now!" he yells. "The firefighters are sleeping now, Miles," I tell him. "But we can go in the morning when they're awake." "Do they have an ax?" Miles wants to know. I tell him that he can ask the firefighters tomorrow. He has other questions for them like "what color is their bed, what did they eat for dinner, where do they sleep, do they have a fire hydrant, and do they have a kitchen."

I wake up in the morning and discover that Laura may have visited. I won't know for sure until I get my hormone levels tested and this time I'm not getting my hopes up. Miles wakes up yelling "I want to go to the firefighters!" I wait until it's an acceptable hour and call the station. We're free to come. Miles is ecstatic. Firefighter Doug greets us and amazingly spends an hour indulging Miles. He answers every question (including "do you pee on a potty?") and opens every door, drawer and compartment Miles asks about. We also meet a paramedic, watch an ambulance respond to a call and a slew of firefighters stock their truck. Miles is beside himself with excitement. After an hour I convince him that firefighter Doug has to go put out fires and we leave. At lunch with Baron, Miles recounts his morning. He asks me what sounds like "are you noisy to Baron?" I'm not sure what he's talking about so I ask if he's remembering when the ambulance siren turned on and it was really noisy. "No," Miles says and repeats what sounds like "are you noisy to Baron?" "I'm so sorry monkey, but I'm not sure what you're asking me," I say. "Are you giving Baron food from your body?" Miles asks. I'm momentarily stunned that a) he's asking me if I'm nursing Baron, b) he knows what nursing is and c) he can define a word when I don't understand him. "Are you asking me if I'm nursing Baron, Miles?" I ask. He nods. I tell him that I nursed Baron when he was very little. And I tell him that I nursed him when he was a baby. And I tell him that my new boobies don't make milk so I can't nurse Baron anymore and that makes me really sad. "Do you want to nurse me?" he asks. I smile. "I would love to Miles but my new boobies can't make milk. He thinks for a minute and then asks "do you want food from my body?" I smile again and respond "yes, Miles. I would love that." He seems satisfied and goes on eating and telling Baron about his adventures with firefighter Doug and paramedic Trevor.

I ask Miles how he knows what nursing is and he says "from the book where daddy and Miles make a salad." I think for a minute and realize what he's talking about. Before Baron was born, Boris and I would read a book to Miles about bringing a new baby home. The book has no words, just pictures. In one of the pictures, the mommy is nursing the new baby while the older son and daddy cook. The picture has lots of vegetables, which Miles apparently thinks is salad. I just worship him.

I get up to make a bottle for Baron. I'm so sad I can't nurse him. I am so thankful though that I have amazing women in my life who are fortunate to be nursing their little ones and who provide Baron with enough breast milk for almost all of his bottles.

The next day I have my round 2 appointment with Dr. Karlan. Miles wants to come even though I tell him the doctor doesn't have candy. We're right on time. The doctor isn't. Even though I'm shuffled off to a room right away, I still wait 45 minutes. If Miles wasn't with me I would have gone ballistic. Instead, I read "Green Eggs and Ham"to Miles 42 times. When he's about to go ballistic, I open the door so we can take a walk down the hallway. Dr. Karlan is outside. "We're going to take a walk since we've been waiting 45 minutes and our tolerance has run out," I say. "Has anyone come in to talk to you yet?" she asks. I shake my head no. "Would you like a blue balloon?" she asks Miles. "I want it!" he responds. Dr. Karlan asks one of her attendees to get Miles a balloon. She introduces herself and follows us back into our room. She says she needs some information to update my file. I'm asked the same annoying questions I get asked every time I see a doctor. I don't understand why I have to answer each time, but whatever. I try to be civil so Miles doesn't think I'm a raging bitch. I do however, tell the attendee that I'm a new patient of Dr. Karlan's and don't know how she operates. "Is it normal that she doesn't call with results from ultrasounds? I'm just wondering what to expect," I say. "Oh. You didn't receive your results?" she asks. "Nope," I answer. And continue "I called and asked Dr. Karlan to call me with results, but she never called. Again, just wondering if she doesn't call people back or if I don't get test results or what." She's not sure what to say so she gives some lame explanation about how she's the attendee and can't really answer that.

Dr. Karlan walks in during the explanation and says that my results are normal. "You did have that cyst on your left ovary but it's common during the menstrual cycle." I haven't had my period in over a year and have no idea what cyst she's talking about. I ask her a zillion questions until I'm satisfied that the cyst really is nothing. She wants to draw blood to test my hormone levels to see if they're normal but I refuse and tell her I have scans at Tower in 2 weeks and will have them test me so I only have to suffer through one blood draw. Before she examines me she asks her attendee to blow up the blue balloon for Miles who needs to get out of the examination room asap. The attendee is instantly turned into entertainment for Miles as she starts blowing up a blue balloon (a.k.a. a latex glove) and drawing faces on the fingers. Dr. Karlan examines me and says everything looks good. She apparently sees signs of "estrogenization" which means my ovaries are coming back to life (which explains why most of my menopausal side effects have thankfully subsided).

Miles and I leave as fast as possible. I want to get him to the park asap but he instructs me to park the car in front a construction site across from the hospital. There are several diggers and loaders in action and a parade of dump trucks. We get out of the car to watch. He runs back and forth pointing and shouting "look mom! It's an excavator! Look! It's a loader! Look mom! Do you see it!?" It also must have been trash day for the area because we see 10 garbage trucks drive by. Miles doesn't even know what to do with himself he's so excited. I spend the next 30 minutes watching him have the best time ever.

On the drive home we discuss Thanksgiving. "Will we have a feast?" he asks. Ever since his first meal, Miles is obsessed with food. He'll eat just about anything and seriously has food radar. No matter where he is, if anyone is eating anywhere in the vicinity he races over to them and asks what they are eating usually followed by "can I taste it?" We talk about all the delicious food we'll eat. And I tell him Thanksgiving is a day for us to remember all of the things we have to be thankful for. "I'm thankful for you and Baron and daddy and I'm so thankful that I'm feeling good," I tell him. "What are you thankful for, Miles? What makes you happy?" I ask him. Miles has long think and then carefully responds "food."