My child is determined to make me look like an idiot.
It all started when he was quite wee.
He would cry and scream and carry on in his colicky way. I would cry and scream and pull my hair out.
And then we would go out in public or to one of our friend’s houses or to see our family.
And the boy would sleep or coo the entire time. People would pass his little burrito-ed self around and sniff his head and tickle his toes and he would be the most content thing you ever met.
Everyone would say, “I don’t know what you are talking about! He is always so GOOD!”
I was sure this was coincidence. I mean, and infant cannot have a diabolical scheme against his parents, right?
The boy grew and changed. This is when the tantrums and the meltdowns started. We would say, “no no, Eddie” and he would fling himself to the floor or hit the chair or the cat or us and scream. Oh did he scream.
We go out? And he is all smiles and dancing and wonderful. He is a different child.
This is when I started giving him the side-eye. I was pretty sure he had an agenda to make the world believe this his parents? Were lying imbeciles who just liked to complain about how hard parenting is.
This week, he convinced me of his plotting.
Let me preface this by saying last week he hurt his ankle (or foot…hard to tell with a 20 month old) by falling over a friend (yes, he is as graceful as his mother). It bothered him for less than 24 hours. The weekend was totally fine.
Tuesday night? Things got NOT FINE very fast.
All night long Eddie was up clutching his foot (or ankle, who knows). Every 30-45 minutes he would SCREAM out from his bed, and we would find him holding his foot or waving it in the air at us.
This was a long night.
Somewhere around 4am, I asked Cort if he wanted me to take Eddie to the doctor that day. I knew he couldn’t take our little man; Wednesday was his first day of his new job. They tend to frown on people taking off their first day.
We agreed that I should stay home. This was obviously painful to him and his little foot was warm and a bit swollen.
So I groggily put in for a sub and typed up some last minute lesson plans.
Fast-forward to our appointment later that morning.
Not only does Eddie totally walk into the appointment all cheery (like he really got more sleep than I did? no.), but he dances…DANCES…around the exam room with the toys.
At this point I feel like his doctor is going to shoo us away with a nice pat on the head for the
crazy worried mommy, but no. She thinks that to be safe, he should have an X-ray done.
So I get Eddie’s socks and shoes back on, we check out at the pediatrician’s office, and head downstairs to take the corridor to the hospital to get the X-rays.
And yes, Eddie runs through the corridor like a crazy person because there is so much space.
I struggle to keep him somewhat not annoying to others in the lobby, then fight with him to stay on my lap in the little check-in room, and then finally let him play with the toys while we wait for the X-ray tech to call us back.
When the tech finally comes for us, Eddie is clearly done with this trip. He does NOT want to leave the toys.
I calmly hold his hand and
drag guide him to where we need to go.
And of course, the X-ray tech says, “hey, I thought he couldn’t walk on it.”
Yeah, thanks. That was when he originally hurt it. Now? Apparently he is ready for Cabaret.
So they do the X-rays, we get back home, have our lunch and both take naps.
My nap is interrupted by a phone call from the pediatrician’s office.
“X-rays came back normal. No fractures.”
Just like I figured. He probably pulled something that was throbbing a bit in the night. But he is fine now.
And while this conversation is going on? My students are treating my sub like crap, my monitor at work dies, and my son?
He is sleeping and dreaming of his next plot to make me look like a lying crazy lady.
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