This is starting to be less funny as the waring reveals exhaustion more than humor...
There was last-weeks doctor-vomit-poop incident I shared on Instagram...
And now today...
We were once again off to the doctor, the ENT this time, walking into the double coordidors. Judah was not be held or hasseled, he was squirms and shrinks and independence. So I set him down to show Camilla the button she could push for the elevator. As she pushed it, the doors immediately slid open, to a wait-to-volt Judah, who instantly walked in and pushed the first button possible --
Of course, the Emergency Call button.
For real?!?!?
So I dart to grab him from the buttons while Camilla still has her hand pressing the "elevator up button" since its been a millisecond since starting this episode, but as I scamper to find what button turns off the emergency and wrangle Judah at the same time, the door starts to shut.
I start yelling at Camilla to come in, but she is startled and scared, so the door keeps shutting. My foot swings to stop the sensors, but the creeping continues. I yank Judah over my shoulder and puncture once again the "door open" button, as she's yelling for help and getting panicked behind the sealed silver.
They clinch open, and I swing her in.
Whew.
Then the elevator starts speaking to us, in alarming terms, signaling request for response to emergencies, since Judah hit the button. Oh good grief, I'm talking to an elevator while tugging two little people and trying to avoid the firetrucks and ambulances showing up at the ENT. Wouldn't that be a scene!?
I'm not sure if it went off first, or if we just got off the elevator and abandoned ship, but somehow we made it to the second floor without sirens, though the stares of those overhearing our escipade should have been filmed as the door opened and they could see us standing there, a wreck, and talking to the elevator doors...
Can I just add in the joy here of the doctors office "switching systems" and having to re-up every address, phone number, insurance, family medical history, etc. while I'm holding these two squirmy little people? Oh thank you, technology, for this ease of morning. Grrr...
We go back to the waiting room and the doctor is kind and straight forward: surgery. Again. Round 3 for this little guy in 6 months, round 2 for his ears. Now tubes plus adenoids.
Scheduled it for next week.
He leave us suckers for the littles, and we walk out the door to grab Camilla a haircut and get the necessities from Target.
Don't know why this didn't go better than I hoped, but the concept of licking a lollipop in Target seemed like a kid-restraining genius. However, after the end of the 10 minute shopping excursion with panic and sweating, I was literally pushing the red cart with Camilla covered in shampoos and deodorants with Judah clamoring on my shoulders, lollipop stuck to every bit of his shirt, hands, me, and the cart handle. Purple goop everywhere. Sweet lady checking us out went and wet a million paper towels to at least clean him off enough to get home.
We ran to the Post Office (seriously, could that line be any longer and slower!?) and I called Mark's mom to schedule babysitting for Camilla for Judah's surgery. At the end of my sanity and whits, she offered, pleaded, to take the kids...
About 15 minutes later, I dropped my "Special Deliveries" off at her door. Praise Jesus.
Angry and spent, I drove the couple minutes home, grabbed my Target bags, and walked through the door for some much needed refreshment alone time...
When I looked up as I slipped my shoes off, bags still in hand, I noticed a 2 foot hole sawed out of the ceiling...
Oh that's right. Shoot. I'd forgot.
Leak in the house. Coming from the roof. Into the dining room, about 6 foot long, over the table. Hector was coming to look at it while I was gone this morning.
Might as well just sign the check now.
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