Caged Animals

We had Neddy's twelve month check-up this week. I am pretty sure that our sitter gave our kids naughty pills or extreme amounts of sugar before I picked them up and hauled them to the doctor's office by myself. Let's just say things didn't go well.

I, of course, was running late and out of gas. Kate, of course, didn't want to go to the doctor. She wanted to "play 'side." Neddy was quietly chilling in the backseat, or so I thought until I heard a loud splash and turned to see that she had ripped the nipple off of her bottle and was happily pouring its milky contents into my school bag where my report cards were now floating.

This isn't even the bad part. We flew into the doctor's office. Only three minutes late! Of course, hubby later pointed out that this was not a victory because we were still, of course, late. And in his mind, late is late. There are no shades of late.

Kate ran for the sick child part of the waiting room. Why is that the only place that they put an enormous fish tank? When my kids are sick, the last thing they want to do is sit quietly and stare at some fish. 

Now, I am pretty sure I know what happens when we show up for our doctor's appointments. I can see the telling faces of the nurses when they call our name. I know when they look at the schedule for the day and see our last name on the list, they groan loudly. When we arrive, late, they peek around the corner to see if I have both red-headed beasts in tow or just the one. When they see that I have both, they groan even louder, crack open a bottle of hard liquor, take a swig and a deep breath, put on a gorgeous smile before walking around the corner and stating our name through clenched jaws. 

Honestly, I don't blame them. Our children at the doctor's office are like little caged animals. We walked into the room and Kate proceeded to open all of the drawers and empty their contents. I tried to stop her but I needed to strip Neddy down to her diaper so that she could get checked out. Next we walked, Kate ran clumsily with her pigeon-toe feet, down the hall to the scale. As Neddy was was weighed and measured, Kate ripped the big paper giraffe off the wall. 


When we returned to the room, Kate immediately grabbed the paper cover and started to unroll it. I asked her to stop. She said, "No mama. Kate do dat." And I placed her in time-out. When I turned back around, Neddy was shredding the paper and eating it. I dug it all out but the doctor was concerned that there was still some in there. Once I proved to her that it was all out, I turned to look at Kate who had ripped the rubber stoppers off of the bottom of the chair and was chewing on them. I took those and then removed her from time-out to clean up the mess. 


When we were finally cleaned up, Kate decided that she was "Baby Tate" and needed to be carried. I tried to hold both children, but "Baby Tate" was angry and tried to push Neddy out of my arms. I set Neddy down and then we had the kicker....
Kate, with amazing speed, pulled my shirt down and said, "Mama boobies." I yanked my shirt up with my free arm, turned crimson and started sweating at the thought of what had just happened. I looked at the nurse, who had a thin smile, and said, "I am so sorry. She has never done that before..."


As she walked out to get Neddy's shots prepared, I stood there dumbfounded at all of the events that had taken place in the last 15 minutes. How did things go so completely wrong? 
We finished the shots and packed everything up. Just when the nurse thought she was done with us for a few months, I said sweetly, "See you next month for Kate's check-up!" (That's right, my kids are 11 months apart....heh heh heh!) I am sure she will buy a bigger bottle of liquor next time. Maybe she will share with me.