BabyLegs mixed with MommyBrain and a dash of Advice
Oh today. Why did you have to be so horrendous? Here’s how it went:
Bella screamed most of the night. Sam and I took shifts getting up with her. At 10am, we finally both rolled out of bed. At 10:45 I drove him to work, because Bella had her 6 month appointment today. I came home, put her down for a nap, cleaned the house, had breakfast, and got her up at 1 to get ready. I was packed, dressed, and had her in the carseat by 1:20, which made me very proud. Our appointment was at 1:30 and so I was going to be a few minutes early – no small feat. Sam usually goes to these, but his schedule got switched at the last minute.
We got into the Dr’s office and I checked her in, only to have the receptionist pause. “Who are you here for?” she asked. I told her the Dr., and she shook her head. “I’m so sorry, we have you down for a 4:00 appointment today.”
I stared at her in disbelief. I knew I had written down the time wrong. She gave me a look of deep sympathy and tried to see if she could squeeze me in, and the only thing she had was a 2:45. I took it and planned to take a long time doing errands.
Grocery store. I had Bella in the Ergo with BabyLegs on – and no socks. It was a warm day, and because I have to undress her in the Dr’s office and she was getting shots in her legs, I thought a long sleeved onesie and BL’s would be fine – since they slide over her tiny feet anyway. No one else seemed to think that. A (very old) lady stopped and asked how old she was, and then commented on how cold her feet must be. I smiled and nodded. There is no point in arguing. She was old and adorable – whatevs.
Then I get in line to checkout. Behind me was Advice Woman. She grabbed Bellas’ foot and said, “Your feet are so cold!” without even looking at me. I ignore her. So she says louder, tugging on her foot this time, “You should tell your mommy to put socks on you!” I move away from her a little and give her a blank smile, wondering why she thinks it’s ok to touch my child.
Her friend asks how I like my Ergo and I tell her I love it, and we are interrupted by, “Sockies!” from AW. Looking slightly annoyed, her friend says her son has the Ergo as well. Again, we hear in a cheerful voice, “Sockies!” with a very pointed stare at me this time from the AW. Irritated, I stare back and say nothing. What does she think – I’m going to pull out socks from my ear? She says to Bella, “You need some socks!” I sweetly reply, “She has socks. At home.” I wonder if it’s acceptable to throat punch someone at this point. As I turn around to leave, she says loudly, “Be sure to tell your mommy you need to have socks on!”
Having had quite enough, I say angrily, “How incredibly annoying!” (In my head, I throat punched her. So there.)
All riled up, I do the rest of my errands, which consists of getting a package notice from USPS, driving around to the other side of the building, hauling Bella in, and waiting in line for 15 minutes behind someone that, putting it nicely, was quite ripe, – only to find out they put the wrong number on it. :/
Back to the Dr. we go. Once in, my Dr. tells she is referring us to a GI specialist at Children’s Hospital for the barfing. Solids and time were supposed to help it but haven’t. She is 13.9 lbs – in the 12th percentile for weight, and has only gained 4oz in the last month. Then the six month shots – in which Bella becomes so upset she lets out the most deafening, ear piercing screams I have ever heard.
Finally settled, we head out to the waiting room where a lady pokes her husband and says, pointing at my red eyed, sniffling, bandaid covered child, “That’s probably the one we heard crying.” We head home as I wonder about people who point out obvious things in loud whispers.
She is now napping. I thought about taking a nap, but can’t with so much on my mind. So I ate carrot sticks and grape tomatoes. And blogged.
We have to go get Daddy from work in a sec. He’s getting a big hug from me – because today I realized, once again, just how much he helps me out when he’s around for this stuff. I’ll keep you updated on when we go to Children’s and what they tell us. My poor little baby. 🙁
::collapses in exhaustion::