I go to pick Bricen up from his crib this am and instantly all I can focus on is how skinny he feels. Hate this. Today is his birthday party with my side of the fam. Lots to do. But I'm about to have a (as my mom would say) "come to Jesus meetin" with these therapist. Perhaps I'll give it until next week so I don't have crazy mom eyes or crazy mom tone of voice. Right now I'm sure I would be talking very fast and my voice would probably get a little higher as I went along. And I probably wouldn't even know what all I said when I finished. And maybe, just maybe, my finger would be pointed. Doesn't help my frustration that I can't get a timely response from one of the therapist. For craps sake. I know the medical world is semi falling apart (believe me, I know) but business goes on people. Crazy mom mode. If I'm gonna put this baby through this, I'm gonna need to see SOME improvement. So far, not impressed. I know it's his world, his timing .................and when that thought ran through my head I meant Bricen but as I typed it I realized it's HIS world, HIS timing. Is there such thing as a "come to Jesus meetin" with God? Haha yea, didn't think so. (Ugh/sigh)
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