This week is tripping on by, just like an August week should. Sorry for the no-show yesterday, but it was one of those days that really wasn’t all that bad, but, for some reason, the Big Gray Cloud of Discontent fell over me late last evening and I felt powerless to do anything but lie in a fetal position in my bed.
But all’s well this morning, and I have ever so much to tell you!
We can begin with the fact that August, the boy, not the month, is officially 2 years old! I completely flaked at the pediatrician’s office the other day when she asked whether he is putting words together to form phrases. Was all, “..?” and “I’m sure he does, I just can’t think of any right now.” And she was all, “If he doesn’t start doing it by Christmas, give me a call and we’ll talk.”
Immediately upon leaving the office, I called Tim, distraught that our son might be “behind.” And he’s like, “Beth, how about ‘I’m gonna get you’ and ‘Love you’ and ‘Thank you’ and ‘Little People’?” And I was like, “I think I’m the one who’s “behind”.”
I have serious performace anxiety at the pediatrician’s. I try to think of all of the stuff that he’s doing beforehand, but then when faced with our kindly doctor’s inquisitive stare, I blank. D’oh!
Speaking of, Auggie has awoken from his nap. I must flee! More later, I’m sure…