Dear Internet Gods of Karma or whatever,

FUCK. YOU.

No really.  Fuck you.

I know that just a few days ago I ran my mouth about how “It gets better”.  Better is sooo beautiful, I bragged.  The colors and the ocean air and the blah blah blah.  I almost didn’t write it.  I almost didn’t say anything, because well…there are so many mamas out there who are in the thick of it.  And they really don’t need to hear how everything is so la-di-frickin’-lovely on this side of town.  It probably makes them feel like punching me in the face, to be quite honest.  Or at least throwing a burp rag or two in the general direction of my head.

The other reason why I should’ve kept it to myself?  It’s called The Law of the Internet.  If you are stupid brave enough to brag about something to the whole entire world on a public blog, then it is CERTAIN that the Internet gods will laugh in your face and serve up a great big platter of “shut the fuck up woman, Karma is a bitch”.  In other words, don’t tell your FaceBook friends that your baby sleeps through the night.  Your baby won’t for the rest of the week.  Don’t Tweet about how hot you are in your new jeans, because you’ll ruin them in the washer the next day.  (For the record, I have not done either of these things…they are just examples.)  I’m just making the point that if you tell the whole damn universe that you are DOING BETTER, your kid will suddenly start waking up all night long again.  You will find yourself standing next to his bed screaming (in your head) “Are you fucking kidding me right now Internet??? He was doing better!!!” He will start waking up at 9:42 pm, and 11:17pm, and 1:24am, and 3:30 in the goddamn morning and he will plead with you to “Sleep wight next to me here in my bed Ma” until you finally just fall asleep next to him because your heart is breaking that he is sick again and your husband has to sneak in at 5 am to wake you up so that you can go back upstairs and go to sleep.  Make sense?

So here I am, to eat my enormous helping of humble pie at the dumbass table.

Wanna know what I did yesterday?  I took my sweet boy back to the GI doctor.  That med wean that I was so proud of?  We’re nearly doubling the dose of his reflux med to see if it will help.

Max and I celebrated with a cupcake.

And a haircut….

Oh my word this child may have been up 5 times last night, but he is handsome as all get out.

I have learned a big ol’ Internet lesson.  Be. Quiet. Sometimes.

OK, but that’s not the only lesson.  The lesson is that life isn’t always black or white.  There is a grey area in between, and that grey area is just as beautiful, if a little more maddening.  The truth is that we have still successfully weaned Max off of ONE of his meds.  The one that could have the yuckiest side effects.  And even though we’ve upped the dose of the remaining med, it’s still only the night-time dose, and we are going to wait before adding a morning dose again.  He might be up all night, but he is sleeping in his own bed.  We don’t have to drive him to go to sleep anymore.  He’s eating.  Real food, and nearly anything he wants.  He’s off of prescription formula.  So there.  That’s the grey.  That’s where we’re at.  And it’s ok.  Really.

I can still smell the colors and feel the sunshine and hear the birdies whistling sweet nothings in my ear.

Because I have this…..

Take THAT Internet. And goodnight.

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