Dang. This kid was here to apologize for being rude and nasty to me, but I was just trying to get home to my big glass of wine.
I smiled brightly and said, "Hi Little Joey."
Little Joey: Uh, hi, Mrs Madame.
Me: How can I help you this afternoon, my friend?
Little Joey: Well, the principal told me I have to apologize for being mean to you today.
Me: Oh? Well, you did make a really horribly nasty face at me when I asked you to put away your pencil crayons.
Little Joey: Well, it's just that ... I was told that I'm not allowed to use my fingers to tell you what I think of you."
...
...
...
...
And with that, my day ended the way it started. Only, the driver who flipped me The Bird this morning DID use his fingers to tell me what he thought of me.
Must've been the kid's dad.
Must've been the kid's dad.
I stopped on the way home and got some groceries (read: I spent 30 minutes walking through Superstore, amassed multi-hundred dollars worth of food that fits in 2 bags and holy shit how is that possible?? Gaaaah!)
I got into the car (kinda still chuckling about the "use my fingers" thing) and headed home. Then my phone was ringing. Wow. I've never heard it ring. Yeah me! I'm getting better at being a cell-phone carrier.
But wait a second: call display says it's Husband, who never, ever calls me.
I mean never.
I have deliberately gone "missing" over a period of hours and he will not phone to see if I'm still alive.
... Ok, it was me escaping for some alone time, in a huff but the fact is, he never did call or text to see if I'm ever coming home. In a few hours, I could be in ... well, I could be waiting at the America/Canada border on my way to Mexico. Just sayin'.
I think he probably doesn't want to indulge my antics, but seriously, pick up a damn phone and call me sometime. Sheesh. What's a girl to do?
... Ok, it was me escaping for some alone time, in a huff but the fact is, he never did call or text to see if I'm ever coming home. In a few hours, I could be in ... well, I could be waiting at the America/Canada border on my way to Mexico. Just sayin'.
I think he probably doesn't want to indulge my antics, but seriously, pick up a damn phone and call me sometime. Sheesh. What's a girl to do?
So, then, of course, when my phone rings, and it's him, I know something big is up.
I pull over and pick up the phone.
Me: Hi.
Husband: Don't freak out.
Me: Uh, ok?
Husband: Well just, don't freak out but we're in Emerge.
Me: (trying to fake it) Uh, ok??
Husband: Well, Kiddo #2 was jumping on the bed...
Me: (groan)
Husband: Well, yes. So I was in the kitchen making dinner...
Me: (grooooan)
Husband: And I heard this huge bang.and then I waited and didn't hear crying.
Me: (gasp)
Husband: So I ran in and there he was working up a huge cry and I went to hug him...
Me: Ugh!
Husband: And my hand came back with a lot of blood.
Me: UGHHH!
Husband: He's all bandaged up now and he's fine but he's gonna need stitches.
Me: (groaning) Ok. I'm on my way.
I arrive at the hospital with a coffee and hunker down for a long night.
Oh my lanta. There were a dozen babies (and by babies, I mean anything under the age of 2) who took turns screaming the entire time we were there. It was like the worst day in Walmart met the first day at Gymboree and the two had a secret devil spawn called Emily Rose. Or whatever ER stands for.
When we all got into the exam room, Kiddo #1 became instantly interested in all things going on and needed to be underfoot. I nearly came home with only one child that night. I know she wanted to make sure her brother was ok, but holy lordy get the eff out from my armpits! Gah!
Perhaps this would have been the part in the movie where the music changes ever-so-slightly to indicate the beginning of my undoing.
Maybe it was Kiddo #1 being all up in my biznas.
Maybe it was the screaming waiting-room-sextet.
Maybe it was all that, coupled with the whimpers of my kidlet, but I think this truly was where I went from calm and rational to "woman on the edge" complete with twitchy eye.
When the (very kind) nurse arrived and began washing his head with saline, I started sweating.
There was my little guy, shivering from pain, or shock, or both (I've only seen him do that one other time, and it was when we were in emerge and he'd cut open his hand and they were washing out his gaping wound then, too.) but I could feel the beads of cold sweat collecting on my forehead.
When Kiddo #2 started to whimper, I looked at Husband and felt the world start to give way. I don't think I was gonna faint; I was getting bigger...
I think that must be what Bruce Banning feels just seconds before he goes from doctor to Hulk.
I choked back tears and rushed out to "get something from the car." I was gonna lose my mind watching my kiddo in pain.
Nursing, thy career is for anyone but me.
I stood out in the freezing cold night and let my sweaty self cool off. Oh, look in my armpits, I found Kiddo #1 again. Thank heaven she has sense enough to stay out of the path of a charging elephant.
Wait.
I mean, GAAAH give me some space, kid! I'm trying not to scream at you because I feel awful and here you are being all innocent and helpful. She was practically BEGGING me to lose my shit all over her. I deftly told her to find 4 pink things in the backseat of the car to get her away from me.
I took a breath and felt my chin quiver. I slowly exhaled (which calmed the need to yell. It takes a lot of breath to lose you cool, so slowly exhaling tricks your body into thinking there isn't enough energy to use for a real freak-out). I inhale and there is that lump in my throat again. I can feel my eyes filling up. Frick. Exhale.
And then I decided that crying in front of my kiddo is ok because the best gift you can give a child is to show them that adults are human, too.
But then, just as I was allowing my first tears to fall, it occurred to me that if I was sobbing, it might make Kiddo #2 panic that everything wasn't going to be ok, which I really didn't want to do.
So I held the tears back.
And then I thought that I probably wasn't going to have a complete breakdown, and that a few tears could fall and that is OK, since everything WAS going to be ok.
And then I thought well, there's no need to over-emote and scare the kid: no tears.
And then I thought that I could tell her that the reason I'm crying is because I'm relieved that he's ok and that tears are just the body's natural mechanism for getting rid of stress. Ok tears.
And, then, frankly, after having a stupid debate in my head about whether or not to cry in front of my well-adjusted child, I was distracted enough not to have to cry at all. Handy. Debate ended.
So I cried tears of joy and we returned to the centre of all human suffering (via screaming children in the emergency waiting room).
When I go to Hell, one of my circles will be thousands of crying babies. I think it's the 3rd circle, just outside the lawyer one. Kiddo #1 and I sat down and played games on our devices until Kiddo #2 and Husband emerged.
Ok.
Kiddo #1 played a painting game until the guys returned. I battled incessantly with stupid level 65 on stupid Candy Crush. I've been on level 65 for three months now, and focusing on the level while a bunch of babies were crying their heads off in an echo-y emergency waiting room did nothing to help me finish that damn level. Stupid chocolate squares!
Almost chucking my phone, it was a relief that the boys returned with staples and stickers for being good.
Yeah we may be done in Emerge, but I'm still on stupid level 65. I was gonna flip Candy Crush the bird, but I was told not to use my fingers to express myself anymore...
Oh my lanta. There were a dozen babies (and by babies, I mean anything under the age of 2) who took turns screaming the entire time we were there. It was like the worst day in Walmart met the first day at Gymboree and the two had a secret devil spawn called Emily Rose. Or whatever ER stands for.
When we all got into the exam room, Kiddo #1 became instantly interested in all things going on and needed to be underfoot. I nearly came home with only one child that night. I know she wanted to make sure her brother was ok, but holy lordy get the eff out from my armpits! Gah!
Perhaps this would have been the part in the movie where the music changes ever-so-slightly to indicate the beginning of my undoing.
Maybe it was Kiddo #1 being all up in my biznas.
Maybe it was the screaming waiting-room-sextet.
Maybe it was all that, coupled with the whimpers of my kidlet, but I think this truly was where I went from calm and rational to "woman on the edge" complete with twitchy eye.
When the (very kind) nurse arrived and began washing his head with saline, I started sweating.
There was my little guy, shivering from pain, or shock, or both (I've only seen him do that one other time, and it was when we were in emerge and he'd cut open his hand and they were washing out his gaping wound then, too.) but I could feel the beads of cold sweat collecting on my forehead.
When Kiddo #2 started to whimper, I looked at Husband and felt the world start to give way. I don't think I was gonna faint; I was getting bigger...
I think that must be what Bruce Banning feels just seconds before he goes from doctor to Hulk.
I choked back tears and rushed out to "get something from the car." I was gonna lose my mind watching my kiddo in pain.
Nursing, thy career is for anyone but me.
I stood out in the freezing cold night and let my sweaty self cool off. Oh, look in my armpits, I found Kiddo #1 again. Thank heaven she has sense enough to stay out of the path of a charging elephant.
Wait.
I mean, GAAAH give me some space, kid! I'm trying not to scream at you because I feel awful and here you are being all innocent and helpful. She was practically BEGGING me to lose my shit all over her. I deftly told her to find 4 pink things in the backseat of the car to get her away from me.
I took a breath and felt my chin quiver. I slowly exhaled (which calmed the need to yell. It takes a lot of breath to lose you cool, so slowly exhaling tricks your body into thinking there isn't enough energy to use for a real freak-out). I inhale and there is that lump in my throat again. I can feel my eyes filling up. Frick. Exhale.
And then I decided that crying in front of my kiddo is ok because the best gift you can give a child is to show them that adults are human, too.
But then, just as I was allowing my first tears to fall, it occurred to me that if I was sobbing, it might make Kiddo #2 panic that everything wasn't going to be ok, which I really didn't want to do.
So I held the tears back.
And then I thought that I probably wasn't going to have a complete breakdown, and that a few tears could fall and that is OK, since everything WAS going to be ok.
And then I thought well, there's no need to over-emote and scare the kid: no tears.
And then I thought that I could tell her that the reason I'm crying is because I'm relieved that he's ok and that tears are just the body's natural mechanism for getting rid of stress. Ok tears.
And, then, frankly, after having a stupid debate in my head about whether or not to cry in front of my well-adjusted child, I was distracted enough not to have to cry at all. Handy. Debate ended.
So I cried tears of joy and we returned to the centre of all human suffering (via screaming children in the emergency waiting room).
When I go to Hell, one of my circles will be thousands of crying babies. I think it's the 3rd circle, just outside the lawyer one. Kiddo #1 and I sat down and played games on our devices until Kiddo #2 and Husband emerged.
Ok.
Kiddo #1 played a painting game until the guys returned. I battled incessantly with stupid level 65 on stupid Candy Crush. I've been on level 65 for three months now, and focusing on the level while a bunch of babies were crying their heads off in an echo-y emergency waiting room did nothing to help me finish that damn level. Stupid chocolate squares!
Almost chucking my phone, it was a relief that the boys returned with staples and stickers for being good.
Yeah we may be done in Emerge, but I'm still on stupid level 65. I was gonna flip Candy Crush the bird, but I was told not to use my fingers to express myself anymore...
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