The theme for the day is "getting all worked up to go places, to stay only a few minutes and go home." I had to go all the way to the Northglenn office of my rheumatologist, for all of five minutes, to provide them two vials of blood. Didn't see the doc. Don't think she was even in that office today. Already had my next appointment scheduled. I didn't even have a copay. It was weird, spending more than an hour on mostly interstate, for such a short event.
Babysitting this evening ended up being nearly as quick. I was supposed to be the crossover between mommy leaving for a night shift and daddy coming home after work. I went a little early so my daughter could pack a dinner and get ready without Dino hanging on her. I played with the baby, fed her a bottle, and put her down when she fell asleep in my arms. By the time she was awake again from her evening nap, I was getting a call that my daughter was heading back. (The new facility was overstaffed for the night, and she volunteered to be the one to go home.) I stayed a little longer to be with the girls, but I was still out of there early, at my car as my son-in-law pulled up.
By the time most of you read this, my grandbaby will be officially 7 months old. Her pediatrician gave instructions on starting new sorts of foods, to slowly introduce things that are common allergens, with research now saying this is the best way to approach them. She has been underwhelmed by scrambled eggs. I don't know what she thought of Cheerios. (I'm desperately allergic, so I refuse to be present for that.) And this evening was the first introduction to vanilla yogurt. It could have gone either way. She might have thought it was sweet or tangy, good or bad. My daughter put a tiny bit in her mouth, and she tasted it. Immediately, that little hand shot out and grabbed the spoon and pulled it back to her face. Yogurt was a big hit. Her mommy took a spoonful for her own self, and oh, the look of betrayal on her face!
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