It is 1:34 a.m. and I am awake. Completely, totally awake, crystallized by insomnia. I am thrumming, full of information; my brain won't stop inspecting the litany long enough for sleep to fully take my body.
We emerged more hopeful from my OB appointment. And more solemn. And more aware, no longer cushioned by the naivete of ignorance. We are too late in this cycle for intervention, so we will start with vigilance, monitoring the cocktail of hormones in my blood. We will inspect parts and counts more carefully than an airplane mechanic checks a plane engine the day after a tragic crash. We will hope that nature compels his cell and mine to meet, urging a long-term relationship like a matchmaker. If successful, we will sigh gratefully and thank the universe for our fortune.
If unsuccessful, we will enter a whole new realm of the surreal, involving augmentation and spinning cells and target practice to get the sperm a few inches closer to the egg. There will be blood draws and pills, phone calls and procedures and hopefully, hopefully, hopefully a baby.
Milo's conference went as expected. He performed perfectly on his academic assessment, he is clearly capable of Kindergarten curriculum. Although he is one of the younger kids in his class, he is able to pay attention, to transition well, to listen and learn. He raises his hand to answer questions about the stories he is read, answering with "relevant" answers, showing that he has paid attention, has processed what he has heard, and is able to articulate his response appropriately. We have never doubted his academic readiness.
Our biggest concern is his emotional and social readiness. While he follows instructions well, takes turns and waits patiently during games, and transitions from activity to activity seamlessly, he does not generally seek out specific people with whom to play. He finds an activity that interests him, starts playing and plays with whomever is nearby or engaged in the same activity. This backs up his own statements of "I play with everyone." He does, and he shares appropriately, too.
His classmates like him because he is kind and not aggressive. He is cautious like his mama and lacks some confidence like his daddy did as an early learner. We know this about him. Although he clearly has the vocabulary to break into a group of kids, it is rarely if ever that he tries to join them. "May I play with you?" does not trip easily from his tongue. Just like his mommy and his daddy. Sigh...
His teacher recommends AK for social reasons and did tell us that our school district starts the Talented and Gifted program in Kindergarten. We are planning to discuss this in more depth with the Kindergarten teachers at Kindergarten Round-Up next month. Kindergarten or AK? We aren't sure yet...
And that concludes this not-really-updated updated. Judgment has been largely postponed today, tabled for another month. It is 2:08 a.m. and I'm going to try to go to bed again. See you when the sun is up!