what the doctor ordered

"i swam across;
i jumped across for you;
oh all the things you do;
cause you were all yellow"
--Coldplay


T2 has jaundice. "he's pretty yellow and i'm a little concerned," were the doc's exact words, actually. like any level headed, mild-mannered, relaxed new parents we totally panicked. nevermind he's only lost a couple of ounces since birth. nevermind he's alert and happy and sleeping and eating and pooing.
someone (who knows when to be) is CONCERNED.
they took some blood to check the levels of something i can't pronounce and we waited to hear if it was dangerous. super dad took the call later that afternoon. i watched anxiously, trying to read his face. he looked ... really perplexed.
it's my habit upon hearing (or imagining) disconcerning news to immediately play out the worst case scenario in my head. i find it soothing. in my brain i'd called all of our family, put the dog in the kennel, packed a small bag and we were rushing tay to the hospital for a liver transplant. i had it all under control.
tayloe hung up the phone.
"what'd he say," i asked, not sounding at all calm.
"he said to take his clothes off and sit with him in the sun," tayloe said.
here's what i heard: "he told me to dress him up in a clown suit, teach him how to hoola hoop, then take him to venice beach and pawn his skills for cash."
"what?"
apparently the [name i can't pronounce] levels in his blood were quite high and the treatment is sun therapy.
"that's right. sun therapy. you think our health plan will cover it?" tayloe joked as he wisked our little fella outside.
so maybe you've heard about the heat wave that's been suffocating southern california. even the beach, where we live, is a furnace. bodies have been piling up and there isn't a single fan to be bought from here to San Francisco.
"what kind of hokey pokey california cure is this?" i said, close on the heels of my husband and our baby. "is the idea to burn him so bad that red blisters distract us from his yellow skin? if he doesn't burn, and he FOR SURE will, he's going to die of a heat stroke. and if he doesn't die of a heat stroke or get burned, he FOR SURE ABSOLUTELY is going to get wrinkles later in life."
i was a little beside myself, so i continued.
"baby's got sinus problems? sit him out in the fog for 2 days. cradle cap? nothing a few days in palm desert without water won't fix."
tayloe ignored me and sat directly in the hot afternoon sun with our son on his chest. 5 minutes each side then back in the house.
i figited.
saturday we went back to the doctor and learned, er..hem, that the sun therapy was working. his [name i can't pronounce] levels were already down and we're to continue blasting him with UV rays until day 12 of life. luckily we live in a place where the sun shines 364 days a year. oddly, however, it's cloudy today.
our first parenting scare behind us, i decided i love our pediatrician. i love him and trust him and would strap my baby to a rocket and blast him into outer space if that's what the doctor ordered.
in other news, baby tay has a girlfriend. get the scoop on her here.