Silly Baby

Generally speaking, my adorable little girl is very easygoing and fun to be around. Today, however, she did not offer up a shining representation of her wonderful character.

I'll start by saying that lately, she's been a blast to "entertain" - she finds almost anything you say absolutely hilarious, spreading a beautiful gummy grin across her face, and squishing up those chunky cheeks underneath her big baby blues. If you're particularly fabulous (and know how much she loves repetitive noises and tickles), you might even get a chuckle out of her, which honestly sounds more like a duck honking or maybe an old man hacking. Kind of a sputtering choking sound. But adorable.

Today, she was doing the most bizarre thing I've ever seen a baby do: she was happily watching me talk, cooing in response, and smiling hugely... when suddenly a huge storm cloud would pass right over her face and she'd pout so horribly I thought she'd been injured in some way, but then the smile would come right back... and then the frown! And then the smile! And then the frown! It was like I was seeing the child I knew become possessed by some demon trying to steal her happy repeatedly. Scary crap.

Any time I would stop talking to her, however, the show was over. The demons won the battle, and I was crap out of luck. If I wanted her to calm back down, I would have to pick her up (only my LEFT shoulder will do) and walk around for 5 minutes. Then, she might sit happily for a little bit (but only if being talked to), and then go back to being possessed by the grumpmeister.

Chances are good that she's started teething: she's a soaking wet drooling mess-face, constantly chewing on her hands, eating in fits and starts, and generally being a big cranky-puss. I absolutely would have attributed this sort of behavior to her surgery or convinced myself that her head hurts, except that I know it's not true. Her head is fine. It's just her attitude that's unfortunate.

Today, we went to visit her craniofacial surgeon, Dr. Ruiz. He's a funny guy. He has a lot to say, and never seems to have enough time to say it all. So he talks really quickly. Incidentally, he thinks her head looks as perfect as it can be, and gave us the green light to go ahead with the helmet therapy to finish the job. [Sarcastic tone inserted here] It's going to be awesome when she gets her helmet. She's going to love it so much. We are going to continue sleeping really well, and have a generally super cheerful kid all the time. It's all lining up so perfectly, she's starting teething anyway, so we can just make it all better by putting a big hunk of plastic on her head. She'll be so happy. [End sarcastic rant]

Apparently, the inevitable misery caused by the helmet for both the child and the parents is beyond brutal for the first several days. And then upkeep with it absolutely sucks for the remainder of the time - probably 3 months+. It's going to be a heckuva challenge, but I think it'll be worth it to see her perfectly rounded head coming out of the process. I swear, I never noticed babies' head shapes before, and now... they're all I see when I come across little ones. Very weird.

I also had a lovely conversation with the helmet office -- apparently, they failed to start the paperwork for the insurance on time, so we're going to have to fork over payment in advance and just HOPE the insurance comes through.

[One more little sarcastic rant]

Dear United Healthcare,

Thanks, once again, for the amazing service you provide. I thought it was really awesome when you refused to pay for my midwife's services that legally have to be covered, under a very clear Florida statute. It was super cool how you made us go through 3 appeals and then went back to the midwife to ask, again, for her information. But also still didn't pay up.

And now, once again, you rise to the occasion by saying that you have 30 days to review the information in our case to decide whether to pay for my daughter's helmet, but those 30 days can't start until the helmet place bills you, and they can't bill you until we get the helmet, of course. Which, naturally, someone has to pay for if we've got it already, right? Might as well be us, until you decide for sure whether we actually need it or not. Or, rather, determine if it's actually medically necessary, no matter what her surgeons say. 'Cause you're the experts.

All our love,

The Campbell Family

[End second sarcastic rant]

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I cooked Colin and I some awesome sandwiches tonight: Chicken and marinated portabello mushrooms with goat cheese on yummy rolls, toasted up. We scarfed them down with some Fritos while Calina stayed happy with gramma for 5 minutes.