Friday, April 15, 2011

The Dr Said To Stay Pregnant, But I Don't Think They Heard Him

Today, I realized that my family is trying to kill me.  Well, if they aren't trying to kill me, they are absolutely going against Dr's orders, and they are trying to make me go into labor, two weeks before I should.

Today has been a long, long day.
It started when My Husband, back from a month at a training mission, thought we all needed to get up, and get out of the house as soon as possible.  I'm tired.  I'm really pregnant, and two stores a day is about all I can muster.  We have a lot to do, though, in preparation for The Little One's birthday party, which we are going to have after all.  So, we headed out, and hit the Dollar Tree, in search of stuff for the goody bags.  The Girls were all over everything in that place.  They couldn't keep their hands off anything.  I swear it was like moths to a thousand brightly colored, plastic wrapped flames.  The worst part is always at the very end for me.  There, behind all the registers, are what looks like about 100 helium filled mylar balloons with ribbon hanging down.  The Girls always go nuts, and jump for the balloons, even though we are not about to get one.  It isn't so much the balloon jumping that is the problem, but the fact that they don't pay attention to anything else going on around them from the moment they get near the balloons, and nearly get run over by every shopper who checks out around us.  I have to grab them over and over again.  I'm surprised neither one got plowed down by the time we finally got out of there.

After that torture was finally over, we headed over to the WalMart next door, just to add a little salt to my wounds.  Walmart is often torture by itself, children or not, but taking them with you just amps up the pain level you have to endure.
As if all that hadn't been enough, we needed to hit Target, too.  No seriously, three stores, two kids, and one very pregnant momma.
When we finally got out of there, we headed to my OB's office for one of my last two checkups.  Now, if you read my blog, you probably read about the last time I took The Big One, and I thought my ears were going to bleed.  This time, though, I was so thankful that My Husband was here, to take care of them while I got to go in and actually pee int he cup by myself, and help distract them once we got in the office.  I was wrong, though.  Very wrong.  While I did get to pee by myself, he apparently thought the story of what she did to me last time was so funny, that he needed to see it for himself.  As soon as the medical assistant closed the door on the exam room, and we were by ourselves, he walked right over to the little desk, picked up a model of a Nuva Ring, and ask the girls what it was, by name.  It was intentional torture.  I thought I was going to die.  HE started pointing out all kinds of things, but they were stuck on the Nuva Ring.  They wanted to know what it was.  I indicated as nicely as I could that he was to stop, but he just couldn't stop himself.  I didn't want him to answer them, but find a way to distract them.  So, he started showing them other models and diagrams, on purpose, to see what they would say.  They were still on the Nuva Ring, though.  It kept getting louder and wilder in there.  Finally, I told him he would answer any questions that he caused himself, hoping that he would stop instigating things.  It didn't matter, though.  By that point, they were both chanting "Nuva Ring" in unison and the chant was getting louder and louder.  I know the entire staff heard my two children chanting "Nuva Ring, NUVA RING, NUVA RING" before i could get them to stop.  They had to have an answer to what it was.  They got one.  My husband my be a prankster, but when it comes to our girls, he is also a prude.  Which is why only making him answer the questions would in any way have an effect on his behavior.
He told them that was the name of the special ring lions jump though in the circus, and showed them the model, which had the clear ring standing on its side, similar to what you might actually see.
No.  Really.  He did.
I'm not sure what I was supposed to do at that point, but bad parenting or not, I left it be.  I also "indicated my displeasure" every time he started to show them something else.  If I felt like I was going to die the last time we went through this, I realize now that was nothing in comparison to what he did today.  I was actually praying under my breath for the Dr to walk in.  I've never been so thankful to be examined by a Dr in my life.
The day went on.  There was more torture.  More walking.  More of me trying not to just lay down and die in the middle of a store, but none of it can compare to what he did to me in the office.
Just wait, though.  When they go to school and tell all their friends about the Nuva Ring at the circus, I'm letting him field those phone calls.