Don't judge

I am SOOOOO tired that linking is beyond me. Please forgive me! But I have mustered just enough energy to tell a story.

Kimberly at Temporary Insanity blogged not too long ago about being stupid. I related not because I have those days but because I have PERFECTED them.

Scene: It's Friday night. My husband and our nine-year-old are at the father/son camp out until the next morning. In half an hour, the baby will be asleep, and IT WILL BE HERE...the moment I have lived for all week, the night that has given me a reason to get through some stressful days. I have laid by supplies for the evening: A Hershey almond bar and a Cadbury hazelnut bar because I wasn't sure which one I'd be in the mood for, a bag of jalapeno potato chips, two root beers, and some cherry licorice Nibs to break up the chocolate. Oh, and some chocolate covered donuts, a huge slice of lasagna, and a snack size bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. You know, for variety.

I also have a library bag full of books I've meaning to read, freshly checked out and stacked on the coffee table, and the DVR is set to record Sixteen Candles, Miss Congeniality 2, and Poseidon.

I have looked forward to this moment for days, the moment where I can put the baby down and DO WHATEVER FORM OF NOTHING THAT I WANT TO.

Except I need to put his eyedrops in for the raging case of pink eye that he got on Thursday. So I go to get them. But I can't find them any where. And that's when I realize...I left them at the dentist office where I dosed him while waiting for my older child to finish his check up that afternoon. And it's 8:00 at night. And I have to figure out what to do because Baby G just started this antibiotic course and his eye is still swollen. Very swollen.

I call and leave a message at the dentist's office. Sometimes they have Saturday hours. Maybe the next morning will be one of those days. Then I call the nurse line for my HMO. I hold for over thirty minutes, keeping my child awake in case I have to stick him in the car and drive to a pharmacy. Finally, I put him down. The nurse says he can skip one dose of his medicine and tries to help me figure out how to get him more the next morning. The pharmacist can't do it without a new prescription which means a new doctor's visit. The appointment center is closed. I run through all my options and figure out a game plan for the morning. It will no longer involve lounging around and doing nothing.

The next morning, I page the dentist who does NOT have office hours that Saturday but being a mom herself, drives in from another town to her office to look for the drops. No dice. While I wait for her call back, I polish off my leftover chocolate and potato chips, providing the baby with the same nutritious breakfast (don't judge). When the dentist says the drops aren't there, I call the one clinic thirty minutes away that has Saturday pediatric hours. They have an appointment in twenty minutes or one in the later afternoon. We're already verging on missing two doses so I have to take the one in twenty minutes.

I am dressed in a bright green skirt and a bright purple shirt that I only threw on so I could check the car for the drops first thing and not shock the neighbors. There is no time to change. I haven't brushed my hair or teeth or put on make up. Don't judge. The baby is still in his pajamas (which are actually just yesterday's romper, don't judge) so I wrangle him out of the high chair and brush off the chocolate and potato chip crumbs as best as I can. I grab a clean diaper (because somehow I forgot to even change him for the morning, don't judge) and fly to the car. I make it to the clinic in the fastest legal time possible which still makes me fifteen minutes late. I hand over the medical insurance card and then go to pay the $30 co-pay when I realize...

I don't have my wallet. It's in the library bag where I put it after using my library card. I nearly melt down when they won't let me use a check without ID (it's in the wallet) but then they say they'll bill me. Wait an hour to see the doctor. She says he's fine. She gives me a new prescription for an ointment instead of drops. I fill it after Baby G entertains the entire pharmacy waiting room with his silly toddler antics, and we get home just in time to welcome back my husband and other child, two office and pharmacy co-pays later.

So the point is, I screwed up my own night, and fell asleep two chapters into my book.

But I made an important realization about myself, and actually about my husband, that has a lot to do with why we've never fought once. And I'll share it tomorrow, because this is an awfully long post for being as tired as I am.