All went well with Cooper's surgery. It was much less traumatic this time--less bloody, etc. The big trick now is to get him to eat, because he starts screaming if anyone so much as points a bottle his direction. (And of course, according to any medical person who ever gives you advice, letting your baby have the slightest chance of getting dehydrated is about the worst possible abuse you could inflict as a parent. The guilt is laid on very thick.) So, not counting the fact that my child is a veritable elephant with chipmunk cheeks full of nuts for winter, etc., I must force feed him ridiculous amounts of fluid or the end of the world is nigh. Always a miserable experience for both of us. I can't imagine what it would be like if I didn't have my handy dandy squirt gun bottle. Luckily, all that screaming and pain medication help him sleep a little more. I did get him to gulp down two bowls of very runny cereal this morning, so apparently spoons are more comfortable than bottles. However, I'm worried that if I forego the bottle altogether he will never take one again and I will be forced to ladle all of his fluids until the end of time.
Okay, I'm done with my exaggerated ranting. But it sure is a rotten trick when the gateway to a mother's peace of mind (the mouth!) is closed for construction.