blob to star

This pointy blob on my needles is 3/5 of the way to becoming a star.

It's supposed to be a bath mat, in which case it will be the biggest bathmat I've ever had. I'm hoping washing it then drying it in a hot dryer will shrink it down and firm up the fabric a bit.

it's hard to photograph yourself

Self drafted skirt in blue cotton lawn. I'm not sure how flattering it is. I do not know why my legs look so blue in the photo. Nothern exposure, perhaps?

My current knitting.

current project and some fabric stashing

do you remember?

10 years ago I was rocking out at my wedding reception. Man was that a good time!

That's why I married him, you know. We always have fun together.

If it weren't for him, I'd probably never leave the house.

still feeling freaked

The pediatrician finally called back about the referral today.

She's insisting upon seeing B. I was going to write before she gives me the referral, but who knows if she will.

Hubby says she has to give it to us, but does she really? If she's a good little gatekeeper and there's nothing obviously wrong, will she?

I've had such anxiety the last two weeks when I realized I had to get on the ball about this. And it's not going to get better until that referral is faxed over and I get the acknowledgment of receipt etc from the child development center.

still freaked out

another freak out

So, I was finishing up the paperwork for B's neurodev eval and needed to copy his immunization card.

Hubby went to the drawer where we keep it, because I was on the phone with mom and dad for our weekly call, he can't find it.

I try helping him a bit while still on the phone and the two of us are freaking out.

I cut my call short.

We start looking everywhere. I tear apart the island under the drawer where I know I put it (and where Hubby found the prescription for B's recent bloodwork that I put in the drawer with the immuno record).

Cue frantic looking and getting short with each other (good news is we didn't scream at each other).

I have to call the pediatrician about the referral anyway, so I ask if we can get a copy of the records as well. It was a rambling message.

He gives up after lecturing me on losing a legal document.

I keep looking.

I decide to look in the drawer for the bazillionth time, picking things up instead of just flipping through them, and I find it. An hour and a half after we started looking.

Hubby has since put it in the same envelope as B's birth certificate, his passport, and our marriage license.

I think I might need one of his valium. Too bad the chocoloate mousse cake from Mother's day is all gone.

quiet moment in a busy Saturday

This is going to be one of our busiest Saturdays this Springer. Billy had soccer this morning (which was cut short due to thunder) and in about an hour his buddy Matthew's coming over and we're all going to T-ball pictures, then at 3:15 a T-ball game if the weather holds out.

Right now, my boys are out shopping for me and they may get haircuts if they have time.

I should be doing something productive, but I'm sitting here reading sewing blogs and thinking about having a little lie down. I love taking naps. Now that B's too old for naps, I rarely get to take them anymore.

I think I'd like a nap tomorrow instead of another gift.

(My gift from B at school yesterday was a potted flower in a pot he decorated, decoupage-style, and a card. We made a foam and bead bookmark together.)

don't mind me

I'm having a minor freak out. Hubby and I have an "intake" appointment with a neurodevelopmental pediatrician on the 20th. That means I finally have to look at the packet they sent us and fill out the paperwork and send it in. It also means I need to talk to our pediatrician about a referral.

I've got no idea what is in the packet as I have not looked at it at all. I told Hubby I would get a start on it tonight and I'm starting to freak a bit. No, I don't know why I'm getting anxious about paperwork.

I do know why I'm anxious about the referral part. Our pediatrician doesn't think B has a sensory problem and I always worry she's going to give me a hard time, because sometimes she does. I'm not always my best on the phone either.

Ultimately, I'm freaking out because what if they find something? I don't think they will. We've been spending time with a lot of boys B's age these days, with t-ball and soccer, and I think he's pretty well in the middle most of the time (if near the bottom for coordination and stuff).

But, it's the what ifs that kill me, you know?

Oh yeah, there's also the fact that the receptionist told me the insurance most likely won't pay for the intake appointment and we may be on the hook for the eval, too. I love my kid, but I do not love spending large amounts of cash when I'm not sure there's a need to. Ya know?