I began this morning optimistic about my first trip to the gynecologist with a 2-year-old and a 2 month old.
I thought, "I see kids in the waiting room all the time, and they seem to be well behaved, what's the worst that could happen?"
Ohhh Sofia. You and your optimism. You need to stay where you are most comfortable- in a dark cloud of negativity. Yeah, that's it.
I got the kids ready and in the car without a hitch- smooth sailing.
We get inside, Landon is sleeping, and Avery is
LOUDLY sweetly saying adorable things like,
"Doctor is going to take Mama's temper-chirp (temperature)?"
"No shots for Avery. This Mama's doctor."
I think,"We can do this. We'll be in and out."
Then the receptionist informs me that "all the doctors are in delivery" and explains it's going to be a bit longer than I had anticipated.
I look at my well-behaved angels and agree to wait, it's going very well.
Another 2- maybe 3- year- old comes in and Avery immediately latches on to the poor little girl. She goes off into a corner with the ripped kids' books and 7-year-old issues of Highlights and I sit back and wait while feeling quite content in response to the behavior of my children.
I overhear a 30-something hot mess of a mom tell another equally terrifying mom how she likes to flick her son in the mouth when he talks back and how when she gives him a "spankin'" he laughs at her because he's such a brat. She goes on to explain how her husband had to give him THREE "spankins" until he agreed that it hurt. Because he's such a brat. (?!)
"No wonder her kid is a brat," I think, "his mom is an idiot."
Then I glance over at my "much better-raised" daughter. She is throwing a book on the ground telling the little girl to "get it". Over and over.
After a half hour or so of emptying the candy out of my purse and baby bag (at 9am) to get Avery away from further verbally abusing the little girl, we get called back.
All three of us go into the examining room which has the square footage of a Pop Tart. I, as instructed, undress from the waist down.
Doctor comes in, Landon starts screaming as a result of starvation, Avery starts to lose it due to boredom.
Doctor says, "You can hold the baby if you would like."
I thank her and agree to do so -- before I had realized that I'm going to have to walk across the room with no pants on and bend over to unbuckle and take him out of his car seat in front of the doctor. So, yeah, I did that and prayed to god no one was going to walk into the room while I bent over, bare-assed, while fiddling with the seat straps.
After the very disturbing couple minutes of soft porn I had just performed for the doctor, I lay down on the table and put my feet in the stirrups while I held Landon upright on my stomach. Avery then exclaims, "DRUMS!!!" and starts to pound on the biohazard trash can.
I nervously laugh and apologize and the doctor begins to insert my IUD (SO I DON'T GET PREGNANT ANYMORE) while I beg and plead with Avery to relax.
Then I hear a, "Mama's feet dirty! Yuck!"
"I have to go poo poo!"
and an extra loud, "I see Mama's pee pee!"
I cringe and apologize and pray to everything ever to make the minutes go by quicker than usual.
Thennnnnn I hear "I'm gonna lick your toe!" followed by, well, my toe being licked. (Extra awful because I couldn't see who was doing it-the doctor or Avery. Kidding.)
Anyway, we made it out alive and basically I have to change doctors now.
They sure are cute....
... but I'm cool on having anymore for a whiiiile.
I love you IUD. <3