Thursday, November 21, 2013

So, what did you do today?

Warning: Looooong post ahead. And it only deals with the before lunch bit!

What can I say? This was a very busy day, and a lot for me to digest. You, my dear readers, are stuck with the fallout: I digest best by disgorging my thoughts on paper. Let's not be overly careful with semantics here, y'all know what I mean. So hold on tight.
To confuse the issue just as we begin, the excitement actually began last night. In honor of Big Boy becoming and even bigger boy and reaching the heady heights of three years old, we cut his hair. (Gasps all around. Some moans, too.) See what a big step this was here:

Big Boy Before
During The Shearing
This is haircut initiation Number Four for us, and I have never had to hold so much as a hand for the others. They were all excitement and grins. Big Boy was all trepidation and hold-me-please . Of course, I held him tight,(see the picture? proof that I make an awesome hairdresser's assistant - bet you wouldn't have thought of me in that position)shifting him around in my arms when necessary for the operation at hand. And before he could say his ABC's, the deed was done. The ponytail was no more, and our little face was actually visible, no longer hidden behind a veil of cascading waves.

Examining The Finshed Product
Sorry the last picture isn't the best -trying to fit in Big Boy's own examination of his new self and flashing in the mirror. . . Still, it gives you a great idea of what went down! Big Boy was so apprehensive about the whole thing, despite the propaganda job done by the Princess in the few days running up to this event. I do believe candy featured very strongly in her advertising campaign.
After the deed was done, the other kids organized the traditional march-with-song around the table. Usually, the birthday boy gets so "into" this activity that it becomes a disorganized run-with-shouting through the house. To the utter disappointment of his siblings Big Boy marched around the table once. With much coaxing. Then he returned to my lap, where he remained ensconced until bedtime. 
What fun would growing up be without big brothers and sisters to help you through these rites of passage? (No offense to any of you younger brothers and sisters out there -there's room for you in G-d's world too!)
Whew! We made it to bedtime. If you're still with me, let's fast forward to this mornings 5:00 wake up. Usually, Bubbles sleeps very contentedly until I wake him to eat at 6. Today, we pulled things back an hour, so that we would feed him next at 7, so that he would be "empty" when we took him in for some tests. Remember, it's just to rule things out. Okay, so you know we're running on empty of sleep.
Daddy dropped Bubbles and myself off at the Imaging Center, where we were greeted, and asked to wait in the lobby to be called. We wait. We wait and wait. Long enough to correct a whole page of Daddy's article for posting. Then we're banded, branded as a matched set, belonging together.  We proceed as directed to the window down the hall, present our wristbands and tell the lady what we're in for. As an added courtesy, we each get a sticker with reads "mult proc." For the uninitiated (hopefully that's all of you!) that means we're in for more than one procedure this morning.\Our lady of the window directs us to sit in the room across the hall. This wait is long enough to field a call from concerned family living far away. My little brother, all growed up and building a family. Sweet of him to call just now.
Finally, my hungry little one and I are called in for his ultrasound. Picture keeping 12 pounds of sheer hungry baby absolutely still for this. The technician was none too understanding either. I mean, the kid is only three months old. He hasn't mastered the freezing in place thing yet. And, Mr. Unfriendly Technician, I much doubt you did at his age. So thanks for doing your job and getting us some "serviceable" pictures. Maybe next time, you'll do it with a serviceable attitude. We really were not trying to start your day off with difficulty - a baby does not squirm with intent to do your schedule in.
Mr. Unfriendly Technician became very friendly once the job was done. Very talkative too. He knew that our next test was a VCUG, and he commented on it "You know, it's not so bad having these done when your as young as Bubbles is. I mean they do these tests all the time, and it can be kinda painful. But when it's over, he won't remember it. What I don't get is how adults get through it." And so on in the same very encouraging vein. Hello, sir? I am a mother, whose child is about to lie through that procedure. I don't really need your clumsy attempts at calming me. I was not worrying about the actual test until you opened your mouth. So . . . On to the next room, and a full complement of personnel for this one. All friendly. What a contrast to the last room.
Little Bubbles lay on the table, diaperless and fearless. He knew not, as I did, what lay around the corner. The doctor told me at just what point we could expect some discomfort -with the swift assurance that it doesn't actually hurt it's just uncomfortable, so babies tend to cry. Yeah. Uncomfortable. A euphemism if I ever heard one.
After an initial x-ray, everyone got busy in their battle stations as the nice nurse Rachel threaded a catheter. I am not going to draw you a picture here, (I do have one word worth a thousand pictures for my Baltimore friends here: urologist) I just stood at Bubbles's head and held his hand and talked to him. Except when I was looking over at the screen making sense of things. I was able to accurately pinpoint his bladder - okay, so it was full of contrast dye and looked like a big black blob on the screen- but I could not figure out what that chain of black dots and circles was. So I asked the guy manning the screen, and he looked at it for a very long moment (yikes!) before looking at Bubbles himself. They were the snaps on Bubbles's outfit. We passed the point of pain - I mean discomfort, obviously- with nothing but a single whimper from Bubbles. After that cry, he went back to grinning at me while I talked to him. And then we had the long wait until Bubbles let loose a fountain for us. The x-ray tech told me he had one kid who sprayed the opposite wall. (That requires another shout out for my Baltimore clan: tiger cage anyone?)
I say the wait was long, but that was only because I was in something of a rush. Because we were only seen at 11 for a ten o'clock appointment, I had to recalculate my day. We were supposed to bring Big Boy in to school for his initiation into the study of Torah, which goes hand in hand with the hair-cutting milestone. Of  all the days in the month to pick for these appointments, we managed to land on Big Boy's birthday.
Once the interminable test was finished, I walked to a prearranged meeting spot, and we were picked up by Daddy, making it by the skin of our teeth to the school. The Professor and Sporty joined our entourage in the hallway, and helped Big Boy feel comfortable with the big kids in the Pre-1 classroom.
Here Big Boy sits in the place of honor next to the teacher, who is coaching him on Hebrew Torah letters. It was quite an affair, with much singing and dancing on the part of the boys in the class and our kids. Of course, no party is complete without event-appropriate goody bags. Ours were shipped already filled cross country for less than the price of the bags here. Just some unsolicited advice here, and you're getting more than you paid for with this: Don't go nuts finding bits and pieces and junk to fill your bags with. Find yourself a full service purveyor and let them do the work. It was nice to be back in this classroom with this teacher, as he taught both Sporty (last year) and the Professor (four years ago). It's a small school, and the teachers remain available to past students, so we've been "in touch" all along. Big Boy of course benefited from this, his logic being if this guy is on such friendly terms with my brothers he must be okay.
When the party was over, I dragged around the house catching up on cooking and housework which went by the wayside with all our activities. I love partying, but it sure takes a lot out of me!  

No comments:

Post a Comment