A few weeks ago, at the E-man’s 4 month appointment, the doctor spotted something she thought might be a problem. She sent us to a specialist who would be qualified to diagnose such a problem. If he had it, we’d have to go to Rochester and he’d have to have a minor surgery. If not, then all was well.

Yesterday was our meeting with the specialist, a friendly doctor who seemed very knowledgeable. After a brief insecption, the E-man was given the OK. Everything was fine, and there was no need for surgery.

But as I was leaving, I thought about how this experience had brought out the differences in parenting styles between my wife and I.

My wife was terribly worried about it, and already had contingency plans for a trip to Rochester and surgery. She wondered things like, “What if he needs surgery?”, or “What will I do if he needs surgery?”. I, on the other hand, was convinced there was nothing wrong with him, and never moved on to the What If stage. “He’s fine, they’ll just tell us he’s fine once they check him out.”

Now, I love the E-man just as much as my wife does, but if I know he’s totally okay and I can see that he’s okay, and he starts cranking (as we call it), or crying a little bit, I don’t worry about getting to him in less than 0.5 seconds. My wife, however, will get to him before he draws the breath for the second whimper. Sometimes she stares at me afterwards like, “Do you love him at all?” I do, I just wanted to finish my drink, or finish the report on the news! “He’s fine, there’s nothing wrong with him, he just wanted to be picked up.” But this statement never placates her concerns, strangely enough. I guess it’s just another lesson to be learned along the way.