Girl of the Year

I am making a special award just for my little lady!

We took her to the gastroenterologist yesterday to basically discover what we already know. She's constipated. And pretty much always will be unless her system is maintained by some sort of fiber/laxative combo. Thank you, genetics.

I love this man, by the way. He has been her gastro since she's born. And he just oozes sincerity and calm. He is very optimistic that with our new cocktail of treats to regulate her 'movements', she will be potty trained by the summer and switched over to a fiber supplement that will keep her 'going' for a long while. Poor kid. I hope she never has to read this one when she's a grown woman. How embarrassing.

So, in order to rule out other intestinal allergies such as celiac disease we had to give blood. No, let me rephrase that, SHE had to give blood. Give h.e.r blood. To a gigantic but sweet as honey nurse named Donna. Who called her arms "marshmallow arms". Sweet, yummy marshmallows. Delicious, squishy marshmallows.

Marshmallows.

This kid was a trooper!

She screamed and cried to make Donna stop and she made sure to tell Donna that she wasn't sick and she was feeling better and that she didn't need to test her. But she sat still. She let me hold her and rub her head. She let Donna 'milk' the blood out of her wrist while I squeezed it because she couldn't find a vein in her marshmallow arm. She sat and let the job get done. Like a big girl. While Daddy had convulsions in the corner of the room.

So for that. She gets this award. Especially made by Mamma.

My brave little lady. I am so proud of you.
We'll fix those intestines if it's the last thing I ever do.