I was up before the sun with Small Fry -- and happy to see him in the midst of our long nights of sleep training. We are making progress, and while I hope 5:30 wake-ups don't last forever, they will work for now.
We played for about an hour before waking Buck. Buck and Small Fry got some cuddles in while I got dressed for our 8:15 am doctor's appointment. Fawn complained about his left ear hurting yesterday afternoon -- and informed me that he had an ear infection -- so I made him an appointment to get it checked out.
I emerged from the bathroom to a "I really like your hair like that. You actually look nice today."
Pause. Deafening silence.
"Umm...I think that, no I know that, came out wrong," he added.
I accepted the "compliment" and admitted to myself that Buck was right -- I did actually look nice today. Braided hair, some makeup, and an real outfit (skinny jeans at that!).
We woke Fawn from his slumber at 7:30, and I raced to get him fed and dressed for our departure. There was no brushing of his teeth.
On the way to the doctor we passed a friend's house.
"Mom, we're going to my friend H's house this afternoon to play with that excavator. We are. Say we are."
"Fawn, H has school on Tuesday. The next time they invite us to play we definitely will. You really like that excavator don't you?"
"Yes, and I need one for my birthday. When is my birthday? Will you and Daddy get me one for my birthday?"
"Fawn, Mommy and Daddy have already bought your birthday present. You will love it!"
"But Mommy, tell me you will get me the excavator. Tell me."
"Fawn, let's talk about this later." And, he obliges. Whew. "Mommy, why is it raining again?"
"Well buddy we just are having some yucky weather this week."
"Mom, it's not yucky. It's fog. It's beautiful."
"Why do you like fog so much Fawn?"
"Because Jesus sends it to us," he replies. I'm currently reading One Thousand Gifts and God is using my sweet boy to remind me to look for the beauty and wonder in everything. I silently give thanks for Fawn and his simple reminder. "Plus, Mommy look -- it makes the trees look farther away than they really are. It's so cool."
At the doctor's office, we are quickly ushered into a room and there's a chart on the wall with faces ranging from very sad with tears rolling to very happy, smiley faces to help the children verbalize their pain.
"Mommy, see that yellow smiley face? That's me." He points to the happiest of the happy faces with a pain level of "0". I bite back frustration at the thought that I could be potentially wasting a morning in a doctor's office (during flu season no less) while Small Fry misses his morning nap and we likely miss our weekly library story time.
After what seems like eternity of protecting Small Fry from the doctor's office floor (of course the only place he wants to be), the doctor enters and declares that Fawn in fact does have an ear infection. I'm relieved that I didn't verbalize my thoughts about a "wasted" trip to the doctor. And, I'm relieved that we've caught this one fairly early -- and hopefully the medicine will kick in before his pain turns that smile into a frown.
We stop by the Dollar Store for some dry erase markers -- ours dried up after a night left uncapped -- and then Publix for his prescription. The pharmacist informs us it will be a half hour wait. Small Fry is asleep in his car seat, which I have put in the jogging stroller and am pushing around the grocery store. We order a birthday cake and pick up some groceries, nearly avoiding a collision when a woman in much to much a hurry almost slams her grocery cart into our stroller. Small Fry wakes up screaming in the grocery check out line so I remove his sweet, sleepy, sweaty body from the stroller. When we get back to the pharmacist at the requisite time, we are next to receive our medicine. The lady in front of us in line asks the pharmacist to wait to explain her medication while she sends a text message. She is oblivious to my crying eleven-month old, and my boy who is attempting to open an umbrella by flinging it up and down. Deep breaths. She has many valid questions for the pharmacist that she asks in between pausing to send text messages. Our sweet pharmacist rolls his eyes at me.
We make it home and administer the first dose of medicine. I go into the laundry room to discover that I failed at getting marker out of a precious shirt of Fawn's. I get out the OxiClean and Felsnaptha to try again. I hear the pitter patter of feet headed my direction.
"Mommy, it's fine if I pee peed on the wall right?"
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