Thursday, April 19, 2012

rusty

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Tristan had a couple of holes in his heart when he was born, and so he went straight to the NICU (smh: even when I adopt them they go to the NICU).  Then we had a cardiology visit when he was a month old or something and all the holes looked like they were closing naturally, so we scheduled a follow up for when he'd be 12 months. And we ended up missing that one, and then I just put the reschedule notice on my fridge and looked at it every day for 5 months. Quit judging, I take my other kid to the doctor like every 5 minutes for his wonky brain.

So eventually I took a half hour and made appointments, mostly for R2 but threw one in for Tristan also. And the MOG and I, we talk all the time, but it's usually like, "Why are there no groceries for ME?" and "Is someone going to put money in the bank?" and stuff like that, so usually I figure out he's leaving town because of the internet. "Richy Clark will be preaching at Kalamazoo Christian Brotherhood Fellowship and Drive-in Theatre for the ENTIRE MONTH OF MAY." And I say, "Wait... who? when? where?" but he's already on a plane and I'll have to piece the rest together via Google.

So of course he was elsewhere when this appointment hit and I gathered all my young and took them to the cardiology clinic. And I guess he's been home for a few months or something, because my crowd-control methods are super weak. I was leaving stuff in the house and not buckling the car seats in the right order and just not streamlined, not at all streamlined.

And then I was circling the parking garage, circling, circling. The power washer had like 20 spaces cordoned off, I object to that. The peanut gallery was keeping the questions going about why didn't I just park right there and why is there no sun in the parking garage and why didn't we have any water in the car and also did I know that Toby has mastered Club Penguin because he googled Club Penguin cheats and exactly why was I frustrated? And R2 is squeaking, really grumpy because we're at the hospital and he's not buying this whole "It's Tristan's appointment" deal.

So we get in there and it's a children's hospital and we go all the time and I never understand why everyone else's children are so very quiet. Mine are so loud. Like, think of loud and then think of loud in a fairly small room. Then multiply that by a gillion, and add the loudness of me harshly shushing like a Walmart mom. Like that. And then Tristan woke up, and he was like, hey, how can I break this place?

Finally they put us back in a room and stripped Trissy down to a diaper and gown, and he was all like Aw Heck No and refused to wear the gown so I could be the mom at the hospital with my baby in just a diaper. Then I bribed people with phones and empty promises and emptier threats to just sit still and for the love of all that is holy stop climbing on me. (side note: hospitals: it would be really great if you could like install climbing walls or obstacle courses or something in each office, so they would have somewhere to go away to.)

Toby-cam
After 3 eons they took us back to the EKG and he resisted like an Occupier right before the pepper spray, and Toby and Brynn were taking the tech on a ride of learning, which kind of confused her  a little, because Toby had this analogy about blood flow and driving... anyway. Tristan's heart is fine, which I already knew, because of his continual athletic exploits and such. R2 jumped all the way to the car, giddy to have avoided his appointment by being super quiet.

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Jess here: if Blogger gives you problems, just click "Anonymous" and sign your name. Roll with the punches, folks...

 
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