I have been absent due to sickness. The plague. Sick season this year has not been kind. My life has been a whirl of fevers, sleepless nights, lukewarm baths, coughs, and humidifiers. I have war stories. Stories of survival. Like the day I decided it was time to go to the doctor (again).
Tay and I had been up what felt like a month with the kids. Calming coughing babies, bringing down fevers, it had been rough. But one morning Holden started to cough so bad he couldn’t breathe (croup), and Mommy about had a mental breakdown. It was time to go back to the doctor.
Last time we went (2 weeks before), it was for a week of high fevers for Hudsy… who was better by the appointment… only to give his brother his sickness AFTER the appointment.
Sidenote: Why are kids never that sick when it comes time to go to the doctor? Does Mommy having to fork over the copay make a child magically feel better? I can’t count how many times I have called in with a sick baby only to show up with a bouncing, giggling child. Maybe next time I will just gather my children… take $50… flush it down the toilet… and then see if they feel better. But I digress.
So I made the appointment. I swept my hair up in a bun. Wiped some unidentified (ignorance is bliss) smears off my shirt. Dug in the laundry basket for a pair of yoga pants. And attempted to compose myself.
As for my children, I left them both in footie pajamas. Yes, even the 2 1/2 year old. Holden is obsessed with his footie pajamas. He almost had a meltdown when I tried to put shoes on him, and I was too tired to care. So whatever, footie pajamas won.
(For those of you who do not know what a “footie” pajama is, it is a one piece outfit that has built in socks… with one zip your child is completely dressed.)
I threw both boys into the car and headed off to the appointment. Chaos ensued.
First, I went to the wrong office. This was a new doctor and stinking google maps took me to the office she had in 1975. I got the kids out of their carseats and walked around the medical center for nothing.
I then realized that my phone was dying. I had moments before radio silence. So in a panic I burst into the nearest medical office and begged to use their phone before all was lost. Luckily, I found out that my doctor’s office was in the next building over, but this still required me to strap the kiddos in again. So much for being early… or even on time.
When I arrived at the correct building, I rushed to get the kids out, but something was terribly wrong.
The lower half of Holden’s body was completely soaked.
Did he spill his sippy cup?
OH PLEASE LET IT BE HIS SIPPY CUP.
It was not his sippy cup.
The kid had peed through his diaper and pants in less than an hour.
Hydrate sick kid? Check.
Now the problem was that I had no clothes for him. He is 2 1/2. I thought we were past having to bring an extra pair of clothes everywhere. Furthermore, I had no shoes because, well, he was in footie pajamas.
He could not go in naked, and I couldn’t exactly take him in drenched in pee… Hello social services… so what was a Mom to do?
I looked at my watch and furiously tore through the car looking for any clothing I could find. I found a pair of Hudson’s 6 month shorts and a nice yellow onesie to match. That’ll do.
So picture this.
A doctor’s office full of sick children and parents. So many that they spill out into the hallway. And in walks a frazzled mother with two boys on her hips… one child is frantically trying to escape her grasp… poor thing… and then you look at the other. She sets this one down before she collapses. He is barefoot, wearing short shorts, and a yellow onesie with the button end sticking out. Hmm.
She takes out crumpled papers from her purse to give to the nurse.
You think to yourself, “Well at least she came somewhat prepared.”
And then you hear it.
“I filled these out at home. I hope it is ok that there are coffee stains all over them.”
If that doesn’t say it all, I don’t know what does.