Genny thinks (rightly) that I should hold her a lot. She thinks that I should catch her when she falls. She thinks that I should pick her up whenever I can't quite catch her. She thinks she should still be able to nurse on demand.

I agree with Genny. She should have all those things. My damned arm doesn't agree however. At least not so far. I'm going in to see an orthopedist on Tuesday, so I can find out if all this pain is just part of healing or if I've really screwed things up.

If I have messed things up, then I'll probably be in a cast. And won't that be fun?!

Genny is so darned cute. We were in the supermarket recently and Daddy found a kiddy tape section with sound samples. Every time Genny pushed the funky music, she started shaking her butt. Mike pushed other ones and she looked at him like he was a fruitcake and then she'd push this other one and start dancing in her cart.

In a moment of parental weakness, we bought the funky tape. She now turns on the stereo and plays her tape and dances all over the livingroom. The song that produces the most buttshaking is "Play that funky music, white boy."

Knowing what I do about the coordination she's likely to have inherited from her two klutzy parents, we aren't probably looking at future ballerina with exceptional talent, but I am figuring that with both my husband's and my musical abilities (he's a classical pianist and I can play several instruments by ear) that we're looking at years of music lessons at some point. It's weird for me after Russell.

Russell was in and out of deafness with his ear infections at this age, so while I played music for him all the time, but he usually couldn't hear it. I find myself kicking myself for what I should have done, when I think about it.

I should have yelled and screamed at the doctor to get him tubes and I didn't. I asked, begged, cajoled, but I didn't turn on the mean mommy thing because I trusted the doctor to do the best by Russell. Now, of course, multiple ear infections mean tubes almost immediately because of the multitude of kids who have severe speech and developmental issues from NOT getting them.

I am always wondering what if. I know he enjoys music...much like Mr. Holland's Opus, where the main character's son is deaf but still enjoys music, my tone deaf angel of a boy, still loves music and can belt out the lyrics to several songs as offkey and offbeat as you please.

I know he'll probably turn out just fine. It's just this process of getting there that is so painful for both of us.