If Finwe Could Talk

This is the speech he would give to me.

Mommy, you are my sun and my moon. You are the source of all goodness in my life. I like that smelly thing with the fuzzy face. Even the big white thing that licks me is nice. The little girls are good; but limit the curly headed one from too much one on one time with me. She's a bit rough around the edges, if you know what I mean. The one who talks a lot is great. I love talking to her, and her kisses and hugs are great. Now, even that non-mommy you leave me with is great during the day, but Mommy, we have to talk about this nighttime thing. See, you absolutely, positively have to be here when it is time for me to go to bed. I do not want the goodness from the bottle right before I go to sleep for the night; I want it from you. If you do leave the house, you must return by 8pm. That is your new curfew. Got it? I am not going to negotiate.

Yes, even the nearly invincible and unflappable T had to call me tonight. Finwe would not take his bottle or settle down for her. So, I politely excused myself from the Pediatric Department Christmas Party and hightailed it home. In about 15 seconds Finwe went from crying to happy. He nursed. He fell asleep. Yes, my curfew is now 8pm.