This morning, I woke up to a three-minute coughing fit only to have my dog jump on the bed and rush over to lick my tonsils. Apparently she felt the need to comfort me and didn’t want to miss out on the clean up job. Gross, but this should have been my first indication of how the day was going to unfold.
It took nearly an hour to feed and dress the monsters. Today is not a yogurt or Cheerios or cranberry or banana or toast or grapes day. It is not a sock day or a diaper day. It is just a bowl throwing, pull my sister’s hair until everyone is crying and melting down day.
Where the frick is my coffee? our speech therapy appointment is in 1 hour…we are never gonna make it.
We finally got the kids dressed and ready to load into the car when I remembered that the redundant 13 page bubble survey on the kids’ personality is due today…in 40 minutes to be exact..and there’s two. 26 pages. Crap…and obviously, there are no pens to be found this morning.
Alain came to the rescue and got the kids in the car while I check marked every B box I could find. The answer is always B isn’t it? Why in the world did I not finish this earlier? I’ve had two months and completely forgot. Who’s the dolt now Danielle, who’s the dolt now?
With my homework 3/4 the way completed, I stuffed it in my purse and jumped in the car. 26 minutes left. Gotta go. Apparently everyone is starving now so the toddler serenade begins. Screeching and kicking lasts the entire 15 minute drive followed by a slow internal freak out when I realized not a single parking space was available near our building. A normal person can make this walk in 5 minutes, but toddlers will walk this in 17…at least. Yup, definitely going to be late. Great day to forget hats, mommy.
As we started our stroll across the country, I had one kid on my left who just had to stomp in every imaginary puddle while the kid on my right flopped around like a fish and refused to walk on two feet. Good luck to you kid, because we are late and it is cold. To everyone coming into the hospital, you are welcome. I am sure you each enjoyed watching as my attempt to drag my kids down the sidewalk looked more like the last leg of a marathon while holding onto two inflatable tubemen.
Finally, we reached the lobby. SANCTUARY! I approached the desk to sign in and got a pretty amazing stink eye from the receptionist. She couldn’t find our speech program on her schedule and from the looks of it, was not to happy that I made her put down her breakfast sandwich to figure it out. My mind started racing….aww crap….I got the wrong day! Ugh…why didn’t I look at the calendar 86 times instead of 85. I would have noticed the mistake! Crappola…kill me now.
But wait….the receptionist started to look panicked. Oooo, it’s not my fault after all. Definitely the right day. And then she says those dreaded words no parent wants to hear….”please wait, I need to make a few phone calls, but will be with you in a minute”. Ugh…really? You may as well have given a pixie stick to my kid and told him to nap. Waiting is for suckers…toddlers don’t wait. Toddlers who have to hold mommy’s hand the entire time do.not.wait. Having no choice, I did what any desperate parent does to avoid a meltdown. ANYTHING! Anything at all…including twirling in circles and singing shake it off, shake it off. Taylor always comes to my rescue.
After what felt like ten minutes of spinning, the receptionist informed me that our pathologist has called in sick and says “did she not call you and tell you not to come in?” I waited. I just stared at her and waited. And seethed. And waited. Find the right words Danielle, find the right words. “No, she did not call me to cancel. I did not get a message, which is why we are here today…for out scheduled appointment”. Annnnd breathe. Breathe deeply.
She is not sure why I didn’t get a phone call, and can’t re-book our appointment. I will have to call in next week and speak with the sick pathologist. I can not tell you how happy that made me. Said no mom ever! But apparently I need to be grateful that she offered to validate my parking. So kind!
Impressed with my calm demeanor, I thanked her and headed back to the car. Like a fairy tale waiting to happen…the minute we stepped foot outside, the rain started and Lincoln stopped. Refusing to take a single step and raising his arms, he begged to be carried. Why the frick not kid. Why not. I’ve got no fight left in me, so why not. I picked him up and started our slow as molasses trek back to the car with little miss puddle jumper. Its ok sweetie…mommy hates dry feet anyway. With one more street to pass, Lincoln started coughing and suddenly my shoulder felt all warm and fuzzy. Yup, I know that smell. That is puke. Faaaantastic.
We made it to the car with a nearly broken arm and I stopped and stared in pure amazement. Some douchebag in a Ford F250 diesel xlt spaceship parked three inches from my driver’s side door. SERIOUSLY! You are at a children s hospital! You have to realize that most of these cars probably have kids in them and need space, or did my two cars seats in the backseat give you the wrong impression? Bah.
Normally, I can stand Brooklynn beside the car, she touches the wheel and will stay there while I buckle Lincoln in. But knowing I had to put him in through her door, I was nervous about how long my eye would be off of her. So I did the rational thing. I popped the trunk and sat her inside with my phone. Nothing keeps my little girl still like a piano app. At least she was warm and I could see her. Deal with it. I got Linc strapped in and was backing out to get Brooke when off went my glasses. He ripped them off my face, smiled at me, and sneezed three-foot boogers all over them. Forget it, they are all yours now dude. I’m not even gonna try.
Half blind and ready to cry, I cleaned off my coat, grabbed my stow away child and put her in her car seat. Whew. The hard part over. Now to find the most elegant way to crawl across the passenger seat into my driver’s seat and get outta here. I was halfway there when my phone started to ring. I laughed. Like there is any chance in hell I’m gonna be able to answer it right now. I was almost there…just about to spin and sit, happy that I made it through the pontiac jungle gym, when the panic alarm goes off. The keys were in my pocket and somehow I activated that darn alarm. Way to play it stealth.
With the alarm deactivated, and a final wave to the old couple across the way that witnessed everything, I grabbed my phone to see who called. Low and behold, a message was left from the speech therapy office. “So sorry we didn’t call to cancel, our bad.” Lady, you have no idea.
And you know what….its only 10:46am.
Here kids…take this box of Oreos and go watch Maury. Mommy’s done.