Andrew's surgery went really well today. After we had been waiting in the waiting room for about fifteen minutes, he took my hand and started leading me toward the exit, a not-so-subtle "ready to go home, now, Mom." And it almost did me in when they took him off toward operating and I had to walk in the opposite direction to the waiting room--thankfully, he was fascinated by the man carrying him and he didn't cry at all. He hasn't shown any evidence of pain yet, and he's sleeping now, after nearly falling asleep over lunch. I expect he'll sleep a long time after having to wake up at 5:15 am. If only I could get some sleep now, too.
Gabrielle had a great weekend--I don't think we had any battles. She's doing well today; she's very preoccupied by her new Backyardigans Leapster game. The only little snag was when she and Andrew were fighting over a comb (what makes this comb so precious, I have no idea) and she pushed him in the back and sent him face-first into the door. About two hours after he had mouth surgery! Poor kid...
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I'm so glad Andrew (and you!) got through that surgery ok. You know, we were able to catch the frenulum thing early because I didn't want to leave the hospital without figuring out why Kenzi couldn't latch properly ("is it me? her? both?") so we called in the lactation consultant. She spotted it right away. Like I said, it wasn't bad enough to need surgery but at least we pinned down what caused the nursing issues so I was able to finaggle around to find a way to get a good latch. Hopefully Andrew will enjoy experimenting with his newfound freedom.
And don't underestimate the importance of a comb. Five Iron Frenzy even has a song (Blue Comb '86 or something like that) about the day the lead singer and his sister fought over his comb and she threw it out the back window of the car and apparently he's scarred forever.
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