I think the only thing worse than a sick toddler is having to take said sick toddler to the doctor. Natalie woke up with a fever on Saturday, and when it wasn’t gone by Monday, we decided it was time to take her to the doctor.
Our trip did not start out well. First, Natalie hadn’t napped. By the time we needed to leave at 2:30 pm, she was tired. Then, while I was trying to scarf down some lunch just before our departure, I had the nerve to stop Natalie from sticking her fingers in the butter and smearing it all over her face. As if that weren’t enough, I put the butter dish back in the refrigerator! Since just last night I allowed this indulgence, Natalie was naturally quite angry and confused as to why I was stopping her now. She proceeded to smack me across the face in rage and defiance. Since you can’t reason with a two-year-old who is hell-bent on defending her love for butter about the difference between a greasy mess right before bath time and a greasy mess right before a visit to the pediatrician, I said “we don’t hit” and plopped her on the couch to scream her head off while I ate a few more bites of lunch and tried to regain my composure.
When some of the shock of her hitting me wore off, I picked her up, wiped the snot and tears from her face and she calmed down some. Next, I had the audacity to tell her that she needed her diaper changed. The girl is especially intolerant of diaper changing when she’s sick. But diapers need to be changed. First she whispered it’s just gas and started whimpering. I know, honey, but your diaper is wet and we need to put on a clean, dry one before we go see Dr. Stephen. When I put her on the changing table she started howling like a wounded animal while I counted out loud. Literally 5 seconds later, the new diaper was on and we were good to go.
The carrying on stopped briefly until I tried to put Natalie’s coat on. A coat in 40 degree weather? I may as well have tried shove a sharp stick in her eye. She went completely limp and slithered to the floor. I had my own little meltdown and started cursing not so under my breath. After a few feeble attempts at getting the coat on her spaghetti arms—while muttering some choice words to myself— I wisely decided to forgo the stupid coat and wrangled her into the car kicking and screaming. As I picked her up, she was wiggling so much that her head smacked into my chin. More muttering.
Once we were both strapped into our seat belts, I gave her a bottle of milk. Five minutes into the car ride she handed it back to me and started singing I’ve been working on the Railroad happy as a clam. Meanwhile I was sweating, my heart was racing and I was in near tears.
When we got to Dr. Stephen’s office, we had both calmed down. Natalie readily agreed to put her coat and shoes on before going into the building. Natalie likes Dr. Stephen, and sat on my lap like an angel while Dr. Stephen listened to her heart and lungs. She wouldn’t open her mouth, so Dr. Stephen decided to go for the ears next. But of course her view was obstructed by a ridiculous amount of earwax.
Logically I thought that if my trying to prevent greasy butter messes and putting Natalie’s coat on could insight the tantrum that ensued, there was no way Natalie would tolerate a doctor she’s only seen 10 times in her life poking in her ear with a stick. But there’s nothing logical about toddlers. Natalie sat patiently on my lap while Dr. Stephen slowly extracted bits of wax from Natalie’s ears with a long plastic stick. Finally after pulling a raisin-sized piece of wax out, she declared the ear to be in perfect health.
The next ear wasn’t quite as easy. After some poking with the stick, Dr. Stephen reported the wax was too close to the ear drum to safely continue with the stick extraction. She sent the nurse in with a syringe and some warm water in hopes of flushing it out. Again, Natalie surprised me by allowing a stranger to squirt water in her ear. Not just once, but 4 or 5 times! Tiny bits of wax appeared in the water of the container I had to hold under her ear through the procedure, but no mother lode. After the fifth round of flushing, Natalie lost it. Purple-faced-breath-held-before-blood-curdling-screaming kind of lost it. The nurse decided we could take a break.
When Natalie recovered and was starting to smile again, we resumed the torture. The nurse was stupid enough to tell Natalie “one more time” when she didn’t really mean it. Natalie of course knows what “one more time” means and was rightfully outraged and upset when the nurse wanted to continue squirting water after the alleged last one. I was fuming, too. Luckily, the wax was now at the front of the ear and Dr. Stephen came back to get it with the stick. Another raisin-sized piece was gone. And another ear was found to be in perfect condition.
So, the verdict after all that torture? Just a virus…
Natalie: “Mommy, I want some sfair tackers!”*
Me: “Sorry, honey, we’re all out of square crackers. We have to buy more from the store.”
Natalie: “Daddy, put you coat on!!!!!!”
So Chris put his coat on, went out and bought Natalie some crackers.
Chris: “Look, honey, I got you some square crackers and some round crackers.”**
Me: “Natalie, which ones do you like better? Square crackers or round crackers?”
Natalie: “Sfair tackers and round tackers all together!!!”
I guess it’s a tie.
*Square crackers = Saltines
**Round crackers = Ritz