Sometimes I Want To Go, Where Everybody...

doesn't know my kids name.

I swear, by the time we actually got to see the doctor for Nicholas' five year old check up this morning, I was going to ask them to re-measure him because we had been waiting so long I was sure that he had had time to grow.

We waited in the waiting room (an aptly named room) for over 40 minutes.  Now if I were quietly sitting reading a book, I might have been annoyed with the wait, but I was not quietly reading a book.  Instead, I was chasing a very active imp who tried to monopolize all the chairs to the point that if another kid tried to sit down he would pull the chair out from under them yelling "Mine!  Mine!  Mine!  My sit.  My sit."

I must have said, "Jack Stop It!" or "Jack!  No!" about 587,652 times.  The room was split on their feelings about Jack.  About half the folks just kept giving me looks of pity, "Oh that poor woman.  He is such a handful.  And look she had two others as well.  I'm glad my child doesn't act like that."  The other half of the room was fashioning a muzzle out of bottles and baby blankets.

When they finally called us back I breathed a sigh of relief that we would finally be in a confined area and away from curious stares so that I could drop the loving, patient, mothering lilt from my voice and just tell Jack to calm the hell down and be quiet.  But, instead of taking us to the normal exam room (which is about the size of a walk in closet), the nurse did all of Nicholas' vitals in the hall which wasn't a problem until they needed a urine sample.

Nicholas, whose aim still leaves a little to be desired, was peeing all over my hand while I held the cup as I stood on one leg using the other to try to stop Jack from taking off his diaper.  I washed my hands, re-dressed the boys and headed off to the closet sized exam room.

I am not sure what my doctor was thinking when she installed these handles in the exam room.  They aren't the round ones, but rather this type.

Well you can imagine how well those hold in the likes of Tornado Jack.  He just waits till I am distracted, pulls down in the handle and lets the sweet smell of freedom fill his lungs as he goes running down the hall screaming at the top of his lungs.

This happened three times.  The last time I was nursing Teddy when Jack took off.  I tried to pull my shirt over my exposed breast before heading down the hall, but I have a feeling that a few of the fathers got a free show.

The third time I went after him down the hall, I saw a couple of parents of infants looking at me in horror.  I would have said, "Hey, don't give me that look.  In about 18 months, this is your future your looking at.  Be afraid, be very afraid."

Also, on the trip back to the exam room after extracting Jack from the Doctor's person office where he was banging on the computer's key board, I heard the nurse in with Nicholas and him explaining, "Don't worry.  My mom will be right back.  She's trying to catch my brother."  I am waiting for DSS to show up any minute.

After about two hours we finally left the doctors office.  Nicholas got a clean bill of health, a prediction that he if he stays on this growth path he will be at least 6 foot 2, and a rather large shot (but he didn't even cry my brave boy).  Both boys got a lollipop for waiting so long, because that is exactly what Jack needed, sugar.

Comments

[Samara Tilkens Postuma]

This is TOO funny. We were at the DR today and my son opened the door several times too. The only plus was I was not nursing any infant!

[GG at VB]

Oh, this is so funny. You could market this story as a form of birth control. Yes, compel every teenage girl to spend an afternoon in a pediatrician's office - problem solved.
This is such a funny story- even if it is fiction! My grandchildren are catalog kids!