This is an excerpt from an email I sent to my friend Lisa in August. I came across it while I was deleting stuff and it reminded me of how far I've come in 6 months. If you know me at all, you've already heard this story. :)
This is a story about my "new" reality...
Last Friday I took Grant to his 2-week check-up. The appt. was at 10:15 and I haven't been able to leave the house before 11:00 since Grant was born -- I knew it would be a challenge, but I was up to it. I made it there and was checked in by 10:10, so I was patting myself on the back for being the new mom of two who has her act together.... But remember, pride comes before the fall....? They made us wait at least 30 minutes. By then, Grant was crying because he had a dirty diaper and was getting very hungry. No problem for the Super mom, right? I could change him when we got to the room with the nurse. (I read all the books in the waiting room to Reagan and then we ran out, so she started picking out all the 'books' in Spanish on Hepatitis A. I kept telling her "sorry honey, I can't read those, they're in Spanish" (she has no idea what Spanish is. After that, everytime she picked out a book, she would ask "this one in Spanish, Mommy?")
So we got called back and the minute we got into the room, Reagan started talking and didn't stop until we left. So as you're reading the rest, pretend like you hear Reagan's sweet voice in the background the entire time asking questions. "What's this mommy? Can I have colors? Can I have juice? Can I have fruit snacks? Take off my shoes mommy? Read books, mommy? What's she doing mommy? Grant crying, mommy? Grant cold mommy?", etc. etc. So I changed his diaper -- good work, mom. But then he wouldn't calm down, so I decided to warm up his bottle. That is when I discovered half of the bottle had leaked out into the diaper bag. But I still had half, right?
So I tried to get the lid off and warm it up under hot water in the sink. The lid was stuck, so I had to set Grant down so I could use both hands. That was when he started the open-mouth-silent-cry because he was so mad. I finally got the lid off, but in the process, I sprayed the walls, the floor, the counter with all the 'doctor tools', the doctor's stool, and anything else nearby with the breastmilk that was spilled and trapped in the lid. All I wanted to do was pick up Grant, but I had to hurry and clean up all this milk before the doctor came in and saw everything covered in breastmilk. Gross. I cleaned up and just as I was throwing away the last of the paper towels, the doctor came in. Grant was freaking out, so she couldn't listen to his heart until he calmed down. While I was trying to quiet him (and Reagan) she asked me how it was going. I was sweating, embarrassed about the milk-thing, and really frazzled about Reagan's incessant talking. So I lied and answered "Great!" a little too enthusiastically. After she checked Grant over, I asked her to re-check Reagan's ears. I held Grant to give him his bottle finally, and as the doctor turned around to tell me Reagan's ears looked good -- that's right when Grant exploded/pooped and it ran out the back of his diaper, onto my shirt and down onto the floor. *big sigh*
The doctor looked at me, and clearly saw I was not capable of cleaning up the floor so she did it "so I wouldn't slip on it". Thank-you, Doctor Halbur, and I'm sorry -- oh, and by the way, I'm also sorry about the breastmilk I sprayed all over the walls... Of course, my little commentator, said "What's that mommy? Baby Grant make a mess?" "Yep, Sweetie and I'm sorry, but this means that we can't go to the library today."
The Doctor gave me a look of pity and asked me if I had any other questions -- um nope, except how long before we all have to be clean, dressed and out of this room? Because its going to take a little while... The doctor left and as soon as I set Grant down to get him dressed, he barfed all over the table. Poor kid.
By then, Reagan had taken off her shoes, and I had to practically crawl under table to reach them and by the time I ran my shirt under water, got Grant (and Reagan) dressed to leave, I swear it was 20 minutes. I was still sweating and now my shirt was soaked and stained yellow all down the front. Reagan was still chatting as we finally emerged from the tiny room only to run into the doctor again who still looked at me with pity -- probably wondering what in the world my house must look like.
After having read this story again, I am amazed at what hasn't changed... The three of us still look like a circus act when we go to the doctor, Grant spits up squash instead of pooping on me, and Reagan is *still* talking...
...but I wouldn't have it any other way.
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