I've had a Terrible Thought. What is Mia's pediatrician reads my blog? I know it's unlikely, but not impossible. Maybe one day he googled "baby poop, smokin' ass and too many purses" and lo, there I was. And maybe he has kept reading because he recognized me and secretly is charmed by my unbrushed hair and the list of ridiculous questions I have every time we see him.
Now, I'm not concerned that he may have read where I called him a little cute, because since the filter between my brain and my mouth goes on the fritz sometimes - ok, a lot - I would say there is at least a 15% chance that the next time I take Mia in and he asks "do you have any more questions" I'll say "yes, did you know that you are cute in that dorky nerd boy way I like so much?" Yes, it might be a little awkward, but nothing I'm not used to from years of being a social moron. No, what worries me is that he reads my blog and will think that the reason I showed up yesterday with my hair and makeup done rather than my usual "look" of ratty ponytail, no makeup and vomit stained clothes is because I was trying to impress him. The truth is that we had portraits taken yesterday so I had my hair and makeup done for that. Pure coincidence, you see. (Although I did change into the slinky dress and heels just for Mia's appointment, but, um.... everything else was dirty?)
I'm rather worried that the combination of my (far) better than usual appearance yesterday and my calling him cute on my blog will give him the wrong idea, and next time we go in he will look stealthily over his shoulder and confess that he finds me strangely compelling and hasn't been able to stop thinking about me since the first time we met and wants me to run away with him. And I will say I'm sorry and I'm sure it's a lovely offer, but I love my husband so I can't do it. And he will say but he will dedicate his every moment to making me happy. And I will say no. And he will say but he knows he is the man for me. And I will say no. And he will say but he always picks up his dirty underwear and puts it in the hamper. And I will have to take a few minutes to think it over, but I will still say no.
Sorry... what was I talking about?
Granted, the one time he called me (because I left a message about a prescription for Mia, not because he secretly burns for me) he asked if I was "Amelia's mom" when I answered the phone. But maybe that was just an act, maybe he was just pretending he didn't know my name when in fact he lies in bed every night murmuring "Beth, Beth." (Which likely annoys his wife a great deal.) (I've always sort of wished I had a name that took more to murmuring, but I suppose it is too late now.) Maybe one careless comment on my blog has gotten his hopes up and now I will have to dash his dreams and break his heart and we will have to find a new pediatrician because he won't be able to face seeing me knowing he can never have me and that will really be too bad because he is very sweet with Mia.
I guess what it boils down to is that I hope he doesn't read my blog. Oh, and also I hope that my husband is laughing.