What do you have when BOTH kids are oozing phlegm out of all facial orifices, crusty with overnight snot, eye goop that cannot be removed with a chisel and a big old gash on the cheek?
Why, a well-baby appointment at the pediatrician's office silly!
Did I mention that I just did laundry but can't find clothes that match?
Perfect timing, because it's ALSO Annabel's Special Day at school.
Anyhoo. I took Annabel with me to Silas' nine-month check up because I
hate myself can't manage to get out of the house on time. Thankfully, she was helpful and sweet. She even helped fill the doctor in on her little brother's developmental milestones.
"Yes, he's picking things up with his pinchy fingers ...
"Yes, he's crawling all over the house and the dog ...
"No, he's not sleeping through the night. He's a big, fat not-sleepy bug boy."
In fact, I kinda felt like the preschooler among us when the routine appointment took three times as long as normal ... which, sadly, is becoming the norm these days at the doctors' office.
Ittybit (whinning): WHEN CAN WE GO HOME? I'M HUNGRY.
Mommy (whinning): I DON'T KNOW, I HOPE SOON.
When we got there at four minutes to nine, the kidlet was asleep in his car pod and had to be woken up and undressed. And you know that last thing isn't really big on his TO DO list. Dealing with the sweaters and shirts while the boy flailed around, making the weigh-in more like an obstacle course wasn't easy.
By the time a medical student came in a half hour later to do a "pre-exam" I was ready to leave the kids with her.
Annabel wasn't terribly helpful in THAT department. She wanted to sit on the examining table, play with the rolling stool and talk the med student's ear off.
"What is that?"
"Can I listen?"
"Ok ... when I'm finished."
"I can't hear."
"Well. .. these have to go in your ears."
"OK. ... Oh. I hear it now."
After it was over and the student left the examination room, we waited another fifteen minutes for the doctor.
"Will you read me a princess book? Or the I SPY one? Can I climb on this ... look there at the eye chart. Can you pick me up? I want to show you my favorite letter. It's R. R is my favorite letter because it can growl.. ... RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!"
Honey. ... Remember, I need to speak with the doctor and understand what she says so PLEASE don't interrupt.
I have no idea what the doctor said once Annabel took the rolli-stool out of the garage and crashed into the wall. I think it was something about using MORE diaper rash cream. ... Or maybe she said he looks like he's eating ice cream. ... I sure hope she didn't say he looks like he's been eating diaper rash cream.
Silas didn't want to be poked and prodded, and he definitely did NOT want the Hepatitis shot they gave him at the end. But he was a trooper.
As we were waiting (yet again) for the nurse to come in with the shot, my dad showed up (stalker papa) on his way home from his cardiac rehab (there is a god). He ended up taking chatty kathy out to the waiting room play kitchen to spread her germs to others and leave us grumpy folks in peace.
Afterward, I took the boy to the babysitter's house and Papa took the girl home to his to feed her lunch, and stand in as her Special Day person so I could go back to work.
But when I got to the sitter's and realized how late it was, I figured what was another hour or two? I got myself a Uber Expensive bag lunch at the chi-chi place I pass every day without hope of stopping, and I ate in the parking lot of the school.
Just an hour with my Special Day Girl. Just an hour to start and make up for too much lost time.
*** FOR THE RECORD: The Champ -- at nine months -- weighs 16 pounds, five ounces (less than 5th percentile); measures 27.5 inches long (25th percentile) and has a cabesa circumference of 45 cm (50th percentile). I know this because the nurse wrote it down.