It's Just "One" of Those Days...right?

Today was one of those days where I felt that it couldn't get any worse! What started off as a great morning soon turned sour. Today John and I went to Bellevue for my pre-op. Everything there went fabulous. It couldn't have went any smoother. The nurses were all great, the office staff was very personable, and the anethesiologist reminded me of someone you would see on Saturday Night Live. He was hysterical!

I left the hospital in my husband's truck, which by the way I absolutely hate driving but he wanted to drive my car to the city and being the compromising wife that I am, I let him take the car. The sun was shining and I felt relieved that the pre-op was complete. Just one more thing that we could check off of our getting ready for Baby Hickok list. As I made my way up 87 I decided to pick up Noah and treat him to lunch. He had a doctor's appointment at noon so I figured we would have time for pizza.

Picking up Noah from daycare was a breeze despite the fact that he was outside playing. He loves being outside and usually doesn't want to come in. The daycare owner even took it upon herself to place Noah in his car seat. She must have noticed the dreaded look on my face about hoisting Noah into John's truck with this big belly of mine. The day was going perfectly. We enjoyed our pizza and I headed over to the doctor's office.

When we arrived at the doctor's I did my usual check in with the chick behind the counter business. Now, I am going to be completely human for the next few paragraphs. I am going to honest! I consider writing great therapy. So I am going to let it all out. Are you ready? I don't like the chick behind the counter, no not at all. She doesn't smile. She's not friendly and she's not helpful. She wears an expressionless look on her face regardless of what she is saying. And lately I feel like she is picking on me. She is so bossy! I say lately because we are there every fourteen days or so getting Noah's ears checked. Yes, he has chronic ear infections. I am ready to buy one of those ear checker tools and a script pad so I can start diagnosing him myself and writing his scripts.

At the doctor's office they conviently have a well side and a sick side. Where do think Noah traveled to as I was checking in? Yes, that's right. My twenty month old wandered over to the empty well side. When I say empty I mean desolate. It's noon, there is no one there and no one pulling in the parking lot. After I signed my initials on the check-in form the lovely receptionist reminded me that Noah needs to be on the sick side (she is starting to do her bossy thing). At that point I wanted to provide her with a snide Michelle remark, but I refrained. She is just doing her job which is to make sure that the sick team isn't fratinizing with the well team. I get that however, the well team hadn't showed up yet so she could take off the refuree uniform and relax. Besides ear infections aren't contagious.

Well Noah didn't want to leave the well side which turned into one big fat tantrum. Please picture this with me. A women (me) nine months pregnant trying to drag this thirty-three pound toddler who is kicking and screaming over to the sick side. I managed to get him over there but during that time he ripped my sunglasses off, pulled my hair and slapped me. Thank you receptionist girl for all of your help. Truly appreciate it. Now I know that my son is totally being disobedient. I get that it is not receptionist girl's fault, but at that moment I was at what I thought was my whit's end. Not true though as the story gets better.

Noah continued to scream and flop around the floor like a fish who had been taken out of water. The nurse came out and tried to escort us to a room. After what seemed like twenty minutes of more fish flopping we made it there without injury. As I sat in the room every bit of me wanted to break down and cry. The doctor came in and proceeded to ask questions about what was bothering Noah. This was not the doctor that Noah normally sees. I love his doctor however, she wasn't available.

At this point Noah is still crying. He doesn't want to take his shirt off and he certainly doesn't want anyone near his ear. The doctor tries to look in his ear. However, I am not much help. There is no room on my lap for Noah because I am huge. Did I mention that I am nine months pregnant? The doctor decided to leave to get assistance from the nurse. When she left, as hard as I tried I couldn't hold it in any longer. I was done. I was now officially at my whit's end. The tears came and as a pregnant lady ready to give birth, the tears fell and wouldn't stop. The nurse and doctor came back to the room only to find me sobbing with my twenty month old. I couldn't help it. They offered me tissues and hugs, but I couldn't stop crying. What had started as a wonderful morning full of excitement turned into a nasty episode at the doctor's office.

I did manage to compose myself long enough to provide them with my $15.00 copay. But as soon as a famiilar nurse approached me and asked if I was okay, I did what any woman would do and started crying all over again. You know what I am talking about. The type of crying where your chest is heaving up and down and you try really hard to make sense of what you're saying but it only sounds like a mufffled noise. Yeah, that was me. The look on Noah's face was a combination of bewilderment and disgust. Almost as if he was saying, "Pull it together lady and knock off the crying. I am the one with the ear infection."

I can honestly say that I have never in my life felt more like a D+ parent than I have these past few months. I mean lead me to the nearest parenting class and sign me up for the double session, "How to Raise Your Toddler" class. When Noah throws a tantrum I try to ignore it. I try to walk away. I pray for patience, but I can never really get over the fact that he has tantrums. I feel as though I have done something wrong as a parent and that's why he has them. Anyone who knows me knows that I am not a push-over. I am a teacher. I am structured and strict but I am compassionate and kind. I don't let Noah get away with being disobedient and I feel like we are very consistent with him. But lately I have been questioning my parenting skills. Never in a million years did I ever imagine that Noah would act like me. When I held him for the very first time I hoped he would have my sense of humor but skip my stubbornness and definately skip my attitude of my way or the highway. I don't want him to have to learn the hard way or always have the last word. It's tough being like that. I speak from experience. We have so much work to do with him. He is a beautiful boy that loves to give kisses to his mom and can't wait to see his dad's face in the morning. But say no to him and all unpleasantville breaks out. So, as the day comes to a close I think to myself that there will probably be many more days like this one and some even worse. But honestly nothing beats pulling into the driveway, as I did tonight, and seeing my bright eyed boy grinning from ear to ear out the window as he sees his mommy climb out of that big obnoxious truck and waddle in to greet him. And then I remind myself, it's just "one" of those days.... right?