I don't think I punished you with the woes of my last failed visit to see Simon with the kids in tow so I think you're due for pupil pelting. I'm sorry in advance. Kind of.
If the sanity gods decide to cast their loving smiles in my direction and I'm able to take the kids to the hospital to say hi to Simon before bedtime, the nights tend to be a little bit more tolerable and a little bit less like any one of the Scream movies (a little bit scary, a lot a bit terrible). Fancy that. I wonder why? Well, because it gives us something to do, it gives us something to do, oh! and it gives us something to do. That 5pm - bedtime s t r e t c h can get very ugly very quickly and it's the perfect little balm for our hair pully wounds.
It seemed like things weren't too cray on labor and delivery last night and that it would be a decent evening to pop over and see the medicine man so I hurriedly dressed us all in sensible clothing (prepared for two weather scenarios) and sped a cautious 4 miles over the speed limit to the hospital.
We set up camp in a courtyard and we waited for Simon to break free ...
(any minute now ...)
and we kept waiting very patiently ...
(follow the leader: his fave, she hates)
and waiting ...
(when I sent Julia on a wildly successful mission to stop the robot)
sun begins to set and still waiting ...
(already forgot her mission)
... and ... um ... waiting.
I think this was when I texted Simon, "maybe ... just maybe ... this was a dumb idea" (give or take an expletive or 8).
By the time I melodramatically waved my white flag and loaded the kids up in the van ... Simon was able to run out for the hottest of seconds and I don't need to tell you that I was all shapes and sizes of unprickly hugs after the 60+ minute wait of:
- staring at and lusting after the bag of Starbursts I had responsibly thrown in my purse to keep the kids occupied
- getting caught in mortifying mama-bear-can-growl mode by a pack of nurses leaving the hospital after Julia (followed closely by Sebashadow) sprinted into the street
- getting caught again in even more mortifying and angrier mama-bear-can-growl mode by another pack of nurses leaving the hospital after Julia (followed closely by Sebashadow) sprinted into the street for the 19th time in 19 obstinate minutes
- finding Sebastian in a secret garden of mud with oh! is that a large screw in his mouth? yes, yes it is.
- explain to Julia 12 times in a row that no, I was not wearing an apron ... just a maternity shirt and that I could not take it off for her to wear
Obviously it wasn't even kind of Simon's fault but even I felt a little inapprop blaming the lady with the scarily high blood pressure that detained him and I had to blame someone.
Ah, well. All was not lost ... I did come away with a little life lesson:
You live, you learn, you act like a 6 year old turned martyr and saint and you don't even think to dwell on it at all the day.
I'm totally over it. Really, really.
If the sanity gods decide to cast their loving smiles in my direction and I'm able to take the kids to the hospital to say hi to Simon before bedtime, the nights tend to be a little bit more tolerable and a little bit less like any one of the Scream movies (a little bit scary, a lot a bit terrible). Fancy that. I wonder why? Well, because it gives us something to do, it gives us something to do, oh! and it gives us something to do. That 5pm - bedtime s t r e t c h can get very ugly very quickly and it's the perfect little balm for our hair pully wounds.
It seemed like things weren't too cray on labor and delivery last night and that it would be a decent evening to pop over and see the medicine man so I hurriedly dressed us all in sensible clothing (prepared for two weather scenarios) and sped a cautious 4 miles over the speed limit to the hospital.
We set up camp in a courtyard and we waited for Simon to break free ...
and we kept waiting very patiently ...
and waiting ...
sun begins to set and still waiting ...
... and ... um ... waiting.
By the time I melodramatically waved my white flag and loaded the kids up in the van ... Simon was able to run out for the hottest of seconds and I don't need to tell you that I was all shapes and sizes of unprickly hugs after the 60+ minute wait of:
- staring at and lusting after the bag of Starbursts I had responsibly thrown in my purse to keep the kids occupied
- getting caught in mortifying mama-bear-can-growl mode by a pack of nurses leaving the hospital after Julia (followed closely by Sebashadow) sprinted into the street
- getting caught again in even more mortifying and angrier mama-bear-can-growl mode by another pack of nurses leaving the hospital after Julia (followed closely by Sebashadow) sprinted into the street for the 19th time in 19 obstinate minutes
- finding Sebastian in a secret garden of mud with oh! is that a large screw in his mouth? yes, yes it is.
- explain to Julia 12 times in a row that no, I was not wearing an apron ... just a maternity shirt and that I could not take it off for her to wear
Obviously it wasn't even kind of Simon's fault but even I felt a little inapprop blaming the lady with the scarily high blood pressure that detained him and I had to blame someone.
Ah, well. All was not lost ... I did come away with a little life lesson:
You live, you learn, you act like a 6 year old turned martyr and saint and you don't even think to dwell on it at all the day.
I'm totally over it. Really, really.
As always... I laugh-ity laughed my way through the whole post. Since I'm sick at home today, I needed the pick-me-up! =)
ReplyDeleteThe almost same thing happened to me today. But luckily we live 5 minutes from the hospital so I just waited for a text to say he was not going to be able to meet us. My kids would have ran around crazy too.
ReplyDeleteAt least it got you out of the house and killed a few more minutes before bedtime...!! When my hubby is gone, it's scary what I will allow the children to do in the house just so they will leave me alone and I can make it to the wonderful bedtime moment. I love that time.
ReplyDeleteI strongly dislike the pre-bedtime time. To put it mildly. Right now my daughter is going through a MAJOR clingy stage and is it another one of those things where crying it out approach is appropriate? Because if I offer her a hug, she wants to sit in my lap, if I let her sit in my lap, she wants to play with the knife I used to cut up our dinner, and so on. Obviously I have to draw the line somewhere and I usually draw it right at the beginning, just to be safe. And give myself some leverage.
ReplyDeleteOkay, back to the insistent "mommy-mommy" cries since I have obviously been doing something other than hold her for the past 10 seconds. Bedtime can NOT come too soon! I'd even sit at a hospital entrance for it to come sooner...
I'm glad I'm not the only one who clowns when she's mad at no one. Can't help it. It's my MO.
ReplyDeleteThat time of day used to be the worst !!! I was just reflecting today that its not so bad anymore... Maybe because the kids get better at amusing themselves as they get older (roughly 4 and 2); whatever the case, late afternoon - evening will get better!
ReplyDeleteOh how I know this feeling. Well, 1/2 of it. The waiting part. The waiting with kids part will be a new adventure for the future. At least I have something to look forward too!
ReplyDeleteEvery Thursday night Eric works late, and it still doesn't compare to Simon's schedule. Yet, I totally related to this post... tonight's solution: Beauty and the Beast b/c I was definitely a beast! Thanks for the laugh!
ReplyDelete