I have a feeling that Nathan’s new pediatrician sees a lot of gifted children. Since November when he diagnosed Nathan as having the same speech skills as Robert DeNiro in Awakenings, (before the meds!), I have been watching my son and writing down every new word. I have been reading to him more, talking to him more, which really cuts into my watching Real Housewives of New York City time. There’s a Ramona on that show! Even though she is an utter waste of space, you can guarantee I will watch every Tuesday night and Saturday afternoon. And early Sunday morning if I’m awake. And again on Tuesday night if I have imbibed enough Red Bulls to keep me going until the next new episode!
His speech appointment is next month, the earliest date they had available. Maybe the clinic had some voice analysis program so when I called, they calculated the frequency of “ums,” “cool deal” and “awesome,” and stamped a big red “PARENTING = EPIC FAIL” in the notes section. Hey that’s vocal profiling!
Maybe I should just take Nathan to a doctor who only sees one-month-olds because he could waddle circles around those babies! I’m thinking of taking Nathan to a different doctor, one who isn’t into instilling fear into a new, bumbling mother who isn’t worried that her son doesn’t match up exactly to pediatric checklists. My son doesn’t speak in iambic pentameter, but he laughs hysterically when he jams his finger into my bellybutton and giggles out a, “Tickle! Tickle! Tickle!”
And for a out-of-left-field segueway, I wouldn’t go to Heidi Klum’s gynecologist. It’s not an un-fierce ice tranny mess down there, I’m just saying you wouldn’t mistake my vagina for the controlled concern for light and linear perspective in impressionist paintings. If Heidi Klum’s vagina is Project Runway, then my vagina is Project John F. Kennedy International Airport.
And to leave you with another The Hell, Mona? moment (THMM), I received my AARP card. Seriously! It has my name on it and everything! And all I had to do was marry someone 27 years my senior. That’s how you save money, my young internet friend: marry a peepaw! I’m all about the peepaws! I’ll hoard all the cash I’m saving at the early bird buffet and take it to bingo hall and double it! Who’s with me?