Each time I've taken the one-hour challenge, I've been mildly nervous about the results until I get them, and would have been no more so that usual this morning, except for the fact that my doctor's office tried to call me just before 8:00 am. Tom, trying to be kind, elected to tell them that I was "not available" rather than wake me. They told him that I needed to schedule an appointment with them, and that they'd call back.
This meant nothing to Tom, and so he related it to me rather casually when I came downstairs to join everyone in the playroom. My response, however, was sheer panic. I've already scheduled my next OB appointment, so it wasn't about that. Could it be that they needed me to schedule a time to come in and take the three-hour challenge, which would mean that I'd failed the one-hour?
I babysat my phone for a half-hour before trying to return the call, but the number on my phone was a general one, and could have come from any department, including Pediatrics. The thought occurred to me that it was, indeed, Pediatrics who called, since I have yet to schedule Michael's one-year exam. But then, why didn't they just talk to Tom?
Thankfully, we had a play date to attend this morning, which mostly took my mind off of my concerns. I just took Abby with me this time, since Michael is finally on a solid schedule, and I feared it would be too disruptive to him to miss out on his morning nap (there was no way I was going to get him to sleep during any part of the play date). I'm also honestly getting far too exhausted from simply moving around to fathom trying to do so with more than one child in tow.
Praise God for Tom, and his ability to work from home. I simply don't know what I would do without him around to carry the babies up and down the steps all day long. Though Abby can do it herself now (with close monitoring), that option is available only when she's feeling cooperative.
Upon our return home, I finally found the email in my Inbox that I'd been checking for all day, concerning my test results. They were within normal range.
I still don't know what the doctor's office wanted, since they never did call, but I'm pretty sure it didn't concern my glucose levels.That's a really good thing, because I needed a tiny bowlful of semi-sweet chocolate chips just to motivate myself to write this post. And I ate it guilt-free.
Cute Abby Moment(s) of the Day (actually, yesterday):
Tom: "Abby, why is your knee wet?"
Abby: "Michael tried to eat it."
Later, she was examining the pole on which we've marked her height, where many times she's correctly identified her name written next to measurement line. This time, for some odd reason, she pointed to it and said, "M for Michael."
I was surprised by the fact that she said Michael's name rather than her own, and that she knew what letter it started with, particularly since she wasn't looking right at it (we haven't yet marked Michael's height). But I was incredibly proud, and recognized a teaching moment, so I said,"That's right, Abby! And what letter does Abby start with?"
I beamed at her, and after a beat, she added, "M for monkey!"
Cute Michael Moment of the Day:
He's still too fearful to take any steps without assistance or support, but do you know what he does like to do, without any thought at all? Dance! I saw him at it this afternoon, standing close to something he could grab, but not actually holding on while he bounced his upper body up-and-down by bending and straightening his knees. That takes some considerable amount of balance, if you ask me. My poor little guy just needs a boost of confidence. He's so much more ready than he thinks he is.