Back in November, I went to the doctor because I was still having issues down under from giving birth. During the examination she noticed a couple of freckles on my inner butt cheek and referred me to a dermatologist. Well, between Nola's tummy issues and the move, it took me until this week to get to the doctor. After seeing it, she scheduled me for a biopsy. Am I a little worried about this suspicious freckle? Me? Worry? Um, yeah. In fact, FREAKED OUT is more like it. But I have to wait two weeks to get the biopsy and another week for the results so I am trying not to fixate on it.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Nola is eight months old tomorrow. She is constant motion. I thought her goal was to walk. I am wrong. Her goal is to run. She is a giggling, screaming, crawling, babbling, standing, peek-a-boo playing ball of energy. She is so busy. She is consumed with life. She is everything bright and beautiful. She is my favorite person. My brother-in-law hypothesized that as soon as she learns to run she'll realize that what she really wants to do is fly. I think he may be right.