The skinny baby is… just a skinny baby:) Tests all clear. Which I knew deep in my momtuition on Friday morning. Friday afternoon, of course, I knew just as deeply in my anxiety brain that Something Terrible was Wrong. But yeah… no.
The receptionist asked me if I knew who I spoke with- i.e. the lying liar who told me she’d have my call returned. I was all, “I got nuthin. Just nobody called me, ergh!!!” but I didn’t get pissy or ask to speak to the manager. I had posted on my mamas group this weekend to see if the other moms who go there have had similar problems. It was unanimous that the office staff sucks but our Crunchy Nurse is worth the hassle. My friend replied that she raised the 9th circle of hell on their asses and now gets mad rezpect, so at least I know they’ll repond to bitchiness.
My Crunchy Nurse? I loves her. She nursed her biological kids and her adopted kids into toddlerhood, plus she helped me get Miss Birdy on the boob, on the bottle, then off the bottle- within two weeks:) I’m so happy with her I would hate to leave, but I’ll definitely mention the shittiness of the phone people at our next visit.
The Boue had a random fever yesterday and was all listless but is peachy today. I’m home with her anyway because Papaw has doctor errands with Bren. Bren, by the way, is so teenagerey at age 11 that he makes me want to bitch slap. Happily, I have years to slowly hone my teenager tolerance. And Her Birdiness will have a lot more boundaries than Bren. If that kid could jack straight into his cybergames, he would. He’s like a little Matrix battery-person. Blargh.