Doctor appointments rhyme with awesome.

Dear self:

Don't ever forget how much you LOOOOOVE taking the boys to doctor appointments. Ummm hummm. I know you wish you could go every day, but instead, I hope you limit appointments to Mondays, so you can start off the week with a bang!! Better yet, make sure to always schedule appointments right smack in the middle of nap time? Yes please! And keep going to the same doctor that lives an hour away from home. Sure, sure, there are plenty of Pediatricians in our neighboorhood, but staying local does not make it nearly as fun!

When you get to the office, feel free to make a mental note about how much you actually DID need the double stroller, and wish you put it inside the car, instead of leaving it in the drive way on accident. It would have been helpful, considering that J is sound asleep, and Hugh is wild as ever, since he woke up at 10:30 this morning, and found no need to sleep on the hour long drive up. Yikes. Since a stroller is no longer an option, carry the 30-something pound limp toddler (who would sleep through an earth quake) in one arm, and your equally heavy, over-packed diaper bag (with EVERYTHING in side just. in. case.), while chasing after Hugh, who is running around in the parking lot like a maniac.

Once you reach said crazy-child, try holding his hand to escort him inside, without dropping J or the diaper bag. I suppose it's ok if the diaper bag is smashing Hugh in the face with every step he takes. Oh, and try to figure out how to open the door without an(other) extra hand. Forget all the people looking at you like you are a 14 year old mother that has no idea what she is doing. It's cool. You got this.

Once inside, try to fill out the check-in form while your hands are contained by the humans you brought + accessories. The receptionist will feel it necessary to chat it up with you for fifteen minutes, while you disappear every 10 seconds, trying to recapture your run-away child---I mean, you had to let go of something to fill out all that junk. Eventually, J will wake up half way through the conversation, but don't you worry: as Hugh disappears around the corner J jumps out of your arms, "I'll get him!!". Not long after, you hear Hugh yelling "NOOOOO!" as you look to see J actually dragging Hugh by his feet, declaring "I got him!!!!" Awesome.

Even though they quickly get you into your room, the real fun begins. You will say each phrase approximately 37 times for every nine minutes of your stay: "get down", "don't touch that", "please stop licking that", "no, you can't eat that gum in the sink", "did you break that?", "get off the floor", "please stay out of the trash can", "Wait!! What is in your mouth", and "Hugh. Seriously. Stop licking the floor, the chair, the counter, the bed, and the floor. Stop. Stop. Stop..."

Magically, every time a nurse/student/medical assistant/resident/doctor comes into the room, the children will be patiently waiting on your lap, as you quietly read a book to them. It was like the boys knew when someone was coming, so just moments before, they morph into reverent little lads. When the resident mentions, "Your children are the most well behaved kids I have ever seen!" try not to choke, fail to show her every.single.snack. that Hugh has conveniently dumped onto the floor, how the magazines now have every other page torn out, or how the furniture in the room is rearranged every time she comes into the room.

It would be confusing.

After an unfortunate event, where the student nurse is lucky enough to shoot up Hugh, while the legit nurse watches her attempt in horror (really, how bad can a shot be? It was bad. All three shots.), the boys get a healthy stamp of approval, a few stickers, and we are free to go. Of course Hugh will wet through his diaper during the horror incident (I might have wet my pants too), so he ends up not wearing pants at all; while you changed him, J will deliberately soak his shirt by hopping into the sink. So, naturally, with each child half dressed in the middle of Fall, your exit will me nearly as classy as your entrance.

As you walk down the hall, the nurse says, "See you in two months" and you laugh out loud.

Lucky for you, your healthy kids will wake up from their naps delirious, with fevers and runny noses. Ironic?

Love,

Me

I love doctor visits.