The day began fine - baby babbling to big sister was my wake-up call, Paris did her regular morning wee on the potty and... I have mentioned we put our 3 month old on the potty, haven't I? Anyhow, another post another day.
So yes, Paris did her regular morning wee on the potty and then we foolishly failed to stick to the regular as clockwork routine. Normally, she will then have 1/3 of a feed and do her regular morning poo in the rocker... We changed it up slightly by putting her in the rocker ahead of schedule and, as anyone addicted to regularity knows, you can't change a winning combination.
Anyway, fast forward through 2 hours of screaming, feeding, failing to go and falling into "one-eye open" sleep and my cruisy morning before heading into Bigger Town was converted into throw-it-all-together madness to get to an appointment on time.
I had shakey faith in the "one-eye open" sleep, and as I tossed the "throw on clothes now" vs "quick shower" decision into the air, the one-eye open turned into two and speed trumped cleanliness. This is an important factor to contemplate as the day wore on.
So Paris got another go round on the Rocker, and this time the job was done, and done extremely effectively I might add. (In fact, so effectively, the rocker was quarantined and considered of no further use until decontamination measures had been utilised.) In a regular morning, this is when my shower would take place, combined with a hosing down of the child - but as I was already dressed, this favour fell to V.
Chapter 2 - The Hurrieder I Go, the Behinder I Get
Once the ablutions were made, our "throw-it-all-together madness to get to an appointment on time" haste was doubled. V put Paris into her carseat and I gathered all essentials - paperwork to drop into the school for P&C, Baby Book for Paris' appointment, Nappy Bag, Water, car keys... Oh, car keys? "Honey, where are the car keys?" I asked with very little panic in my voice.
V has a thing about routine. If you have a routine you NEVER lose things, apparently. And I do - regularly lose things, but I always find them again and anyhow, car keys are not things I generally lose and - hang on. V was the last one to drive so "Honey, where are the car keys?" I asked again, this time knowing it wasn't MY fault.
V found the Post Office Key (which he had borrowed to check the Post Box for me last week) but not the car keys. He searched his usual spots where his keys always go in his routine - but only his car keys were there. He searched the nappy bag (where my keys always go in my routine) - no keys. He searched upstairs while I searched the car... I then turned and saw them sitting on a chair that he uses to put on his boots and contemplate life. Phew. I did think about putting the Post Office Key onto the ring but... (insert ominous music)
So, on the road we went, having only 35 minutes to get to the appointment - it only takes 25 minutes to get there, but you always have to factor in chronic lack of parking and the decent walk required to get from a park to the labrinth that is the hospital.
Two minutes into the drive, I remember one very important element missing from my morning. You see, I do have a routine, and I have routines within routines - and thus my decision to dress and postpone my shower until a more timely moment meant...
"Honey," I said, "I forgot my deodorant". Not having any time to turn around and fix that problem (or indeed dash into any shops, buy some emergency spray for the glovebox and use it - once upon a time I was so prepared, but the emergency spray became my bathroom spray many months ago during a whole different one of THOSE days) so it was agreed I was not to engage in any hands on hips type stances during our outing.
We got there with 15 minutes to spare, and 8 of those were then used up in doing the mandatory cruise up and down the street the hospital is housed in, hoping for some stranger to emerge and their vacation of a park to coincide happily with our search - but it was not to be. Finally we abandoned all hope and parked illegally (with 80-100 others who had gone through the same motions) about 5 blocks aways and unpacked the pram, the baby and all the goods and chattels required.
"Honey," said V, "I forgot my shoes." All I could do was laugh helplessly. Again, the routine breakdown had kyboshed V's excellent organisation, and his shoes remained footless beside the chair that held the keys that caused the search that broke the routine in the first place!
So, off we set for our 5 block walk, me with arms planted firmly at my sides and V gingerly, hoping that no foreign objects would do damage to his hooves.
Chapter 3 - In the Hands of the Experts
We raced in to the hospital, hoping to gain no notice. In this whole town we know 3 people who work in this hospital. Within metres of the doorway we bumped into the first.
"Watch your step" he said, but luckily it was not about issues of the feet but the strategically placed steps in the middle of the main entrance corridor of the hospital (because it is one of those hospitals that set little logic conundrums out there, such as "why the heck it would ever have strategically placed steps in the middle of the main entrance corridor?").
We raced to the lift, hoping we would have it to ourselves, given our olfactory and foot-factory issues, but of course that was not to be. In this whole town we know 3 people who work in this hospital. We arrived at the lift at the same time as one of the softball coaches - who also works at the hospital.
We have regular appointments at the Paediatric Ward, as Paris was born with "Clicky Hips" - we have done a stint in double nappies and had many ultrasounds (complete with vocal protests) but it has all had tentative thumbs up and "come back and see"s at the end of each appointment.
Last week, we went to the Zone Trials for Softball (another blog I didn't get around to writing - sorry), and so the 3-month check-up had to be moved. When I rang to move it, the girl on the end of the phone said "no problem, we will make it the same time the week after - we will call you if there is any problem".
Now, as I had no call, I had been under the impression that the same time the week after was when we had Paris' 3-month check-up. I mean, given that conversation and that set of variables, that is the logical conclusion.
Of course, I had made the error of logical assumption, which is a rule not applied in hospital administration.
It appears that the girl on the end of the phone said "no problem, we will make it the same time the week after - we will call you if there is any problem" - but did so with no actual contact of pen to paper or indeed follow-through.
Therefore, the next hour was spent with the Paediatric Unit chasing Paris' chart all over the hospital, us trying not to imagine the conversations (this barefoot guy, stinky chick and very cute baby walk into the Paediatric Unit...)
However, we did end up seeing another paediatrician who gave us the tentative thumbs up and "come back and see"s at the end of the appointment.
Epilogue
Most of that was written during an unprecedented 45 minute nap during the day today.
I could have gone on about more key loss and toileting behaviour, but as that was hours ago and, although I am finally relieved of maternal duties it appears that my bed is calling me in rather urgent tones.
As Paris continues her anti-vampire strategy of sleeping through most nights beautifully but avoiding long periods of sleep during the day, my blogging ability (or indeed, any long period on-computer activity) has greatly diminished. Apologies to those who I used to visit but only do so sporadically these days.
Oh - and for those just here for the photos:
On the way back from softball last week, we are driving away from the proverbial pot of gold!
But this was gold - 'Salina slugging a few teammates home!! She didn't get into the Zone team, but did gain a dozen new girlfriends and a renewed enthusiasm, which was the aim of our game.
Paris showing what enthusiasm is all about.
