Tuesday, 28 October 2014

Thank God for Bed Time and Ben & Jerry's (and sales!)...

Now being a mother of 3 means that I try my hardest to ensure each child gets one-on-one time with each parent regularly throughout the week.
Perhaps it's going grocery shopping, walking around the second-hand store, going knitting (which usually involves a cookie for A-Man), grabbing a milk shake or some French fries...or cuddling at home.
Or - as fun as this sounds - going to your 3-year old check-up and getting the flu shot together.

Yeah I know - what a bucket of fun I am!

But!  I tried to spice it up a bit!
The appointment was at 2pm which was a bit of an issue because nap-time at day-care is from 12-2pm.
So I picked him up at 12, and while his little friends were getting their snooze on - I busted him out of day-care and we went to the bus.
We went downtown and had McDonald's.  We went to the fabric store to get me some solid cotton fabric (½-meters of 4 colours for my quilt and I plan to do some pinwheels for my next project!) which in all fairness - is also therapeutic shopping for me.  I was predicting that the flu shot wouldn't go down well - and well...keep reading.

Then we took the bus to the Neuvola (children and maternal health clinic).
We got there in good spirits and I was thinking, "Holy f*ck!  I might strike gold with this appointment - he's in SUCH a good mood!"
We had fifteen minutes to kill and he was very playful and showing off his little bus toy to another boy and girl there.  He tried to interact with the boy - about his age - but the language barrier made it a bit tricky.
Well, we took advantage of this time and both used the bathroom, I weighed myself (blegh) and waited a bit.

Oh! Our turn!
So because he's 3 and because V-Man has autism and never had to have this kind of "special" appointment - I was excited!
Today we had a student nurse doing her practical training and our regular nurse wanted to see what A-Man can do.
Things to cover (things marked DD= didn't do - keep reading and you'll see why):
  • Speech (DD - sorta)
  • Understanding of simple tasks in Finnish and English (i.e. put the foam circles into their box according to red or yellow colour)
  • Where's your nose/head/eyes? (DD)
  • Open and close an empty plastic bottle with a small cap.
  • Which is bigger/smaller (pictures in a book)? (DD)
  • What is this (points to a photo) ? (DD)
Not sure what else she was going to ask because he got fiesty.
There were of course questions about diet, sleep, attitude, tantrums and how things are going at home and in day-care.
And of course, because he's turned 3 and hasn't been to the Neuvola in a year - we had to get him measured.  Height, weight and head circumference.

This is where the crap hit the fan.
It took over 20-minutes to get his measurements.  We tried his weight on two different scales and since I had just weighed myself (gained about 5 pounds - blegh!) and was quickly getting frustrated - I scooped him up and stood on the scale and we did some basic math to figure out that he weighs approximately 15 kg.
Fastest way to lose 15 kg for me! HA!
The height?  Holy smokes that was a pain in the arse too.  They have this measuring tape that adjusts along one wall and you just pull it down to the top of the kid's head and ta-da.  Done.
No - he absolutely refused and decided running around protesting and proving he can in fact speak by shouting, "NO! EI! (Finnish for "no") YOU - GO AWAY!  GO AWAY!" loud and clear....
I tried to not laugh and I tried to be serious and the tears were pouring out of my eyes - I was both amused and embarrassed...
Eventually, we decided we'd treat him like a baby and lie him down on the measuring tool for - babies.  That was about another 10-minutes of fighting and me having to toss my whole upper-body weight on top of  him (good thing I got that extra 5 pounds...) to pin him down so the nurse and her pupil could guess he's about 90-something centimeters.

He spotted my phone and decided he wanted to watch Moomins and decided a screaming fit was in order.
"Oh no you don't!" I grab him, yank his jeans off quickly because he needs to get a flu shot in his thigh...
The student and I are wrestling/holding him down in my lap - and the nurse quickly goes in for the jab...
Awesome!  We're done!  Let's get the heck out of here!

She wants to see if he'll put away the toys he took out and had organized into a straight line.
Nope - he doesn't want to.  He wants his mother to put on Youtube on her pokey phone and play some Moomins.
I say nay-nay and he goes wild.  Full blast screaming that's so high pitched, I'm curious if the windows are cracking and if he triggered some sort of silent alarm to the police...fat tears running down his face, redder than a tomato and why is he grabbing his crotch?

Why is he dripping?!
Oh no.  Why the f*ck is he GUSHING from his - oh my f*ck.
He's piss-pouring himself.  It's not even peeing, it's not even a wee.
It's down-pouring pee (piss-pouring - courtesy of yours truly) in and out of his pants.
How can a child - who peed before we left day-care and before we walked into the room thirty-five minutes ago HOLD SO MUCH IN HIS BLADDER?!
Do I have a diaper for him? No.
Do I have spare clothes for him?  No.
Do we have a car, where I could plop him into a car seat or on a towel or blanket (which I normally would have in a car - for the dogs) and zoom back home quickly? No.
Do I have any doggy poo bags for his wet clothes? No.

Well, it didn't matter anyways because the little punk decided he wanted to keep his smelly soaked jeans and underwear on.
Yeah - eww extreme.
Now my tears are sitting on my tear ducts awaiting the green light to flow and I bit down and asked the nurse if they have any spare clothes because:
  • A) I don't have extra clothes.
  • B) We're going on a bus after and I doubt anyone would appreciate a urine-soaked child nearby.
They kindly rushed out and found me a pair of lovely girly bell bottom/flared-jeans and he decided he didn't want to wear them.
I said bye quickly and yanked him out.
Finally got those jeans on him and because they didn't have any bags (that or I didn't actually ask because I was dying to leave) - we ran out and I carried his jeans that kept soaking themselves as I held them in my hands.
We caught the bus to downtown and then towards home and since he was falling asleep on the bus - I figured he could use a few extra minutes of nap time (he was up before 6am today) and I needed some ice-cream.
So we rambled past our usual bus stop and went to the grocery store where I knew Ben & Jerry's was on sale and I hummed and hawed over the peanut-butter cup or the Greek-style frozen yoghurt (strawberry shortcake) and opted for the latter.
Not that I think it's actually healthier for me - but because I know the sale ends on the 2nd of November and I will most definitely be back in time to get the peanut-butter ice-cream I left behind.

Once home, another tantrum began over the fact that he pottied (yay!) but refused to wash his hands (eww!) and my husband decided the corporal punishment would be not allowing him to wear underpants but a diaper instead like a baby.
After 45 minutes of screaming and crying for underwear, he's now wearing his underwear, his jeans are in the wash, I had a salad in anticipation of the fro-yo I plan on devouring once the tribe is asleep - and this blog post is complete.

Pray for me - if you want.

PS I'll get my flu shot next week - when it's V-Man's turn for his yearly check-up and flu shot bonanza.  Yeah - you should probably pray...and I'll load up on PB ice-cream.  Thanks Ben & Jerry & City Market for the sale.

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