One of twelve, sort of

I really like Small Boy's pediatrician, Dr. Norwegian. He was the neonatologist at the hospital where Boy was born and did the three and five day checks of the newborns. I liked him from the start; when he learned in the hospital that I'm from the US, he would say things like "He's going to be another Bode Miller" after doing Small Boy's reflex checks (NB: this was before the whole skiing drunk fiasco), and after the five day check he said that we'd made a "perfect prototype" and could go into production. Boy is long and lean, and Dr. Norwegian always says that that's the kind of baby he likes to see, and other similarly nice things. I know any good pediatrician is going to say nice things about the kid to the parents, but still. If he's faking he's a good faker because I think he really does like the Boy.

Today Small Boy had his 18 month check up (two weeks early) and Dr. Norwegian asked when (not if) I'm going to have more kids because Small Boy is the kind of baby you should make twelve of. Funny thing, because Small Boy is one of twelve, in a manner of speaking. One embryo didn't implant, ten are in storage, and Small Boy makes twelve. I laughed and said he keeps me busy enough, but we are, in fact, creeping up on an FET. Project Wean is proceeding apace, I've resumed taking the prenatal vitamins that I should have been taking all along since I'm still nursing but gave up on at some point during the winter, and I've contemplated the purchase of decaf coffee beans. Things in this house are serious when the purchase of decaf coffee beans is contemplated. The only real wrench in the works is Dr. L's messed-up summer schedule.

What kind of doctor takes vacation? In the summer? Of all the nerve.