My husband loves the saying: “Failing to plan, is planning to fail.” It’s usually fitting despite the fact I like to think of myself as a planner. And by planner, I mean party planner. I’m good at that. Planning for everyday life? Not so much. This morning, as an example, Deklan had his 6 week post-opp appointment with the ENT and since it’s end of quarter, that meant Chris needed to be in the office early and I was taking him on my own. Not a big deal. I got it. “Should you set your alarm?” he asked before bed. Nope. No need. We can sleep in a little and then I’ll get them both fed, dressed, and Carter dropped off at daycare by 8:50 in order to make our 9:30 appointment in Minnetonka.
7:30 – Deklan comes charging in my room.
*Ugh. I honestly didn’t think he’d sleep past 7 so now we are already behind schedule. Really regretting not setting that alarm. Also, slightly annoyed at Chris for always being right. And even more annoyed with Deklan for sleeping in when we actually have somewhere to be versus say, a random Saturday when mommy is hungover.
7:35 – Wake up Carter. He’s hangry.
7:40 – Feed the beasts.
8:00 – Run upstairs, throw on a tee, boyfriend jeans, and pull my nappy unwashed hair into a top knot with a bandana. Sounds cute if you are naturally gorgeous with a bohemian vibe and a hippy state of mind. I am neither of those, but there’s no time to change so I trudge back downstairs looking like the hired help.
8:05-8:20 – Chase Carter around the house in an attempt to cloth him.
8:20 – Bribe Deklan to get dressed by letting him pick out whatever the F he wants after he turned down options 1 and 2.
8:30 – Deklan has yet to select an outfit because he only wants to wear Nike shorts, but all of his Nike shorts are dirty so his only other option is an Adidas pair, which is apparently unsatisfactory to this brand snob. #FirstWorldProblems
8:35 – Deklan is clothed but still spouting off about his limited options in athletic wear.
*make mental note to throw in some laundry when I get home and order more Nike shorts.
8:40 – Carry both boys to the car shoe-less, kicking and screaming because one wants to stay home and play, and the other spotted his big brother’s breakfast bar and now wants one too, even though he already had toast, a banana, and some goldfish he found in a bag in the bottom of my purse on the floor.
*why is he hangry all the time??
8:50 – Pull out of the driveway a good 20 minutes behind schedule and realize I also need to stop for gas or we’ll never make it.
8:55 – While pumping gas the Waze app notifies me there is construction on 494 (always. there’s always construction) and I will arrive at approximately 9:26 which means there is no time to drop off Carter at daycare. Fail.
8:56 – Call the school to notify them both boys will now be out this morning, hang up, and say a silent prayer.
I’ve taken both boys to a Dr appointment before so this isn’t my first rodeo, but let’s just say it has never gone well. Feeling overly optimistic, I inform the boys they both get to go to the Dr and that we are all going to be on our best behavior, RIGHT? Driving the boys around in general lately has been one of my least favorite things to do so I’m not exactly excited about the 30 minute trip ahead. Deklan asks non-stop questions along the way.
“Why do you need gas in your car? Why does that guy need gas in his car?”
“Why does he have a bigger car than you? Why do you have a bigger car than daddy? Is it because you are bigger than daddy?” I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that one…
“Why did you say there was traffic? What does traffic mean? What does that crane do? Why do they want to make the roads bigger? If more cars can drive on the road, won’t there be more traffic?”Ok, actually a really smart question for a 3 year old.
“Why does that lady have her arm out the window? Is it safe to have your arm out the window? If it’s not safe, why is she doing it? Does her mom know she is doing it?”
“Why did the music get louder?” The less I can hear you talk my dear…
“What is this song about? Do you like this song?”
“Mom, Carter grabbed my blanket! I told him he could have a sucky and then he had to give it back, but he won’t give it back!”
“Mom, watch this trick? You aren’t watching me, Mom! MOM! WATCH ME!”
And then there’s his side kick who constantly needs to be the center of attention screaming over and over: “MAMA! MAMA! MAMA!” I’ve learned 90% of the time he doesn’t actually need anything so I typically don’t even ask until his pitch has reached a heightened level that tells me he won’t stop until I acknowledge him. So I do and then he mutters some non-sense that I can’t even understand. At this point I look to Deklan to translate and after about 6 of my best guesses have all been ruled out as possibilities by said translator, the cycle continues: “MAMA! MAMA! MAMA!….MAMA!” It gets really fun when Deklan starts to get upset because he is concerned that I have not met Carter’s demands and starts joining in on the screaming: “ANSWER HIM, MAMA!” Like, Dude, calm down. I’m trying but he is not giving me anything I can work with, so what do you want from me? WHAT DO ANY OF YOU WANT FROM ME?
Eventually we make it to the Dr’s office right on time with the majority of our sanity still in tact. Deklan charges on ahead while I awkwardly try to balance Carter in one arm and my pink Marc Jacobs clutch tucked under the other like I’m going to the club, because I didn’t plan ahead so why would I think to bring a diaper bag with toys, snacks, and extra diapers? Uncharacteristic of a Dr’s appointment, the wait was just long enough for Deklan to poop while Carter touched everything in the bathroom. At least there were a few toys in the room where the hearing test was to keep Carter entertained for the 10 minutes we were back there. He even echoed my clapping every time Deklan would respond correctly. I totally thought I had it all under control until it was time to go back to the waiting room and Carter had to leave the etch-a-sketch behind. He was so upset he went running and screaming into a now full waiting room and threw himself on the floor. I quickly mediated the situation by telling him we could watch Dora on mama’s phone. The kid LOVES Dora so he chanted her name as he came running. Honestly, it sounded like a good idea until Deklan overheard and decided he wanted to watch Dora, too. It wouldn’t be a big deal if they would just let me hold the phone in the middle so they could both see, but of course Carter HAS to touch Dora which obviously stops the video from playing about every 30 seconds. Deklan finally got so fed up he head butted him. Ya heard me. Straight up WWE style. There was a room full of parents who witnessed this whole debauchery go down and now all judging eyes were on me to see what I would do next.
I immediately scoop up Carter who is sobbing and try to calmly talk to Deklan about the obvious “bad choice” he made and suggested we take a walk. He responds with a less than favorable blood curdling, ” NOOOOO! YOU’RE BAD!” *sigh* Finally. FINALLY, the nurse comes to get us as we are battling it out in the common area between the outside and inside doors, and convinces Deklan to take the super sneaky back hallway to the room where only superheros in orange shirts are allowed. While very sweet and effective, I think it was also a ploy to keep my screaming children out of ear shot from the other kids in the waiting room who are now very much intrigued – and probably somewhat terrified – by all the commotion.
The Dr does a quick look in his ears, reviews his hearing test, gives his stamp of approval and off we go! Thank GOD this mess is over. Or not…nope, definitely not. Carter takes off running towards the door only he confuses the glass pane next to the door as open air and slams right into it, knocking himself flat on his back. I kind of saw it coming but it happened so fast it didn’t really register until he made contact. For as long as I can remember, I get this nervous laugh whenever someone gets hurt in any sort of awkward way, so of course I burst into a fit of laughter (plus, let’s be real, that shit was funny) as the nurses come tearing around the corner to see what just happened. I am now laughing so hard I can barely respond to their question as to whether or not he’s okay. I try to mouth to Deklan, “Go! Just keep going!” but of course he’s not picking up on what I’m throwing down and insists on knowing why I’m laughing so hard before we can leave. I finally gain enough composure to assure the nurses Carter is fine and tell Deklan I’m laughing because brother was being silly and didn’t see the glass door. He obviously didn’t find the humor in it all and gave me a look of silent judgement that mirrored the one the nurses did, so I quickly ushered him outside before he could ask anymore questions. Pretty sure they took note of all of this on my file.
And this, Folks, is why I work full-time.
