Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“Igor has a brother?”
“Deargodno,” she instantly spits, laughter directly on its heels. “His father played hockey. Well…technically plays hockey, except now it’s retired league shit. Back when I first started at the company – long before I made partner – he was pro. Minor mostly, but he did have a couple of two ways in his prime. The company, luckily for me, has many factions all across the country, so I used that to my advantage when it came to transferring for his career in the beginning.”
Smiling thoughtlessly occurs as I have another sip.
It’s interesting how many sons grow up wanting to be just like their fathers or the polar opposite.
Healthy middle ground territory is a lot like the area surrounding Santa’s Workshop.
Rarely. Explored.
Post lowering the cup back to my lap, I ask, “Would you please get me up to speed on Bella’s condition?”
Anna folds her hands together and releases a rather heavy sigh. “Igor believes that she just has food sensory aversion; however, I believe that’s only half the issue.”
“Food sensory aversion is too often mislabeled as being a picky eater. I’m glad you two took the time to develop actual answers.”
“That’s not exactly what happened. But I like your version better, so we’re gonna go with it.”
My mouth barely has time to twitch in response.
“Bella struggles to eat things that aren’t brightly colored. And I don’t mean she just gets snotty or throws a tantrum that no one wants to deal with. I mean she hyperventilates and shakes uncontrollably.”
“Is there any suspected cause to the aversion? Other disorders?”
“Not that we’re aware of.”
“You as in you and Igor or you as in the two of you and her pediatrician?”
“You really are good at this, aren’t you?” Anna off handedly comments prior to tapping a finger in my direction. “Us and her pediatrician.”
“Okay.” Indulging in another gulp is wedged between remarks. “What do you believe is the other half of the issue?”
“While Bella does have a clear aversion to dull colored foods, portion control is also a problem. When Ig is out on the road, she barely eats. When he’s home, all she wants to do is eat. Not only is it not a healthy behavior, my son refuses to believe it, because when she’s with him, she has no problem eating large amounts, which then makes me look like a controlling, overbearing, babushka, that fucked up raising her own child and is trying to correct the mistakes in her grandchild.”
“Ahhhh, Babu is short for babushka!”
Anna immediately beams brightly over my discovery. “Yeah…our little princess can’t quite say that word yet, but her dedushka loves hearing her try. He wishes both Ig and Bella would embrace their Russian roots a little more than they do.”
Noted.
Although, I should probably charge my phone and make actual notes too.
And read the ones I already have about this family.
“Bella’s behavior regarding the amount she’s eating is actually quite normal for a child her age,” I politely inform.
“Seriously?”
“Children can’t control very many things in their own environments, so when they’re upset or overwhelmed or stressed out, they take full charge of what they can control, which is eating and bathroom situations.”
“Is that why she was so hard to potty train?!”
“Probably a major factor yet unlikely to be the only one. Truth is…like most major milestones for children, they don’t happen when the adult is ready, but when the small person is.”
“Your stats are top cheddar,” Anna compliments, awe running rampant in her voice. “Where the hell did my son find you?”
One hand is thrown in the air.
Sadly, that’s the best answer I can give until I get my cell up and running.
I’m sure I’ve got some sort of paper trail I can piece together like complicated toy instructions.
“I should probably get up and change,” I announce at the same time I place my mug on the low to the ground bedside table. “It’s not a good look for the nanny to drop off her newest client at school dressed in her favorite way out of season snowflake pajamas.”
“October is not that out of season-”
“It’s October?!”
Her brow scrunches together in concern. “You don’t know what month it is?”
“Still…dealing with…my episode…remember?”
“Right. Apologies.” Her hands are lifted in a surrendering nature. “Anyway, Bella’s not in school.”
My blanket tossing stops midmotion. “Is it a holiday?”
“No.”
“Teacher in-service day?”
“Wouldn’t know. She’s not enrolled in a school.”
“Like…at all?”
“No.”
“Not even…a mother’s day out program or drop-in care for two hours a day sort of thing?”
“Nope.”
“Then how does she socialize?!”
“When she does – which is rare – it’s with the other Hatchlings at birthday parties.”
Confusion doesn’t hesitate to make itself seen.
“Oh! Right! You’re new here.” Anna tosses a casual hand in my direction. “Everything team related is dragon related. So, wives and girlfriends are called Slayers-”
“Charming.”
“-and their kiddos are called Hatchlings.”
“That’s…” my mouth bobs around in search of the most professional phrase I can pull out of my word sack, “something.”