another of our days

I haven't been able to hear out of my right ear for days, and finally I break down, stop trying to use over-the-counter eardrops, and make a doctor's appointment. My doctor has a convenient opening just one hour after my call. But! Iris and Lucy are sitting around in their underwear, one eating cereal with half-and-half (we ran out of milk), the other playing with toys while the morning PBS cartoons are on in the background. One hour is barely enough time to get us dressed and there; it is not enough time to arrange someone to watch them.

"We have to get ready to go to Mommy's doctor," I say brightly. "I AM NOT DONE!" growls Lucy (if you were moving a stuffed unicorn and a stuffed princess around with your hands and making noises, when would you consider yourself done?).

I run downstairs and try Iris. "We have to finish up and get ready to go! Chop chop!" Iris seems to vaguely roll her eyes and move her spoon towards her mouth at a slightly enhanced, but still slow, speed.

We manage to get there on time, and the children behave well in the waiting room (Lucy brings the princess and unicorn; Iris brings a Simpsons comic). When the nurse calls my name, they dawdle. "Come on, guys!" I urge. The nurse bends her head around to see what on earth is taking the patient so long to go through the door, and seems to recoil when she sees both children.

When I finally get them through the door, they drag their heels and keep standing in front of the nurse, who is trying to lead us all to an examination room. In the small exam room, there is a table/bed thing for the patient, one small wheeled stool for the doctor, and one small chair (probably for the patient to put her clothes and purse on). I tell the children to try sharing the chair and tell them I'm sorry it will be crowded. They squeeze on obediently enough, but soon they are kicking each other.

"What are you doing!!" I scolded. "We are fighting," said Lucy, logically enough.

"One of you is going to have to sit on the floor or stand," I said. Iris volunteered to sit on the floor, and she leaned against Lucy's legs. Lucy squawked. "You're going to have to move further down, Iris," I said. Iris scootched down the wall a bit, but repetitively swung one leg and knee so that it kept striking Lucy's leg. Lucy started to cry. "Move down further, Iris, and stop that." Iris obediently enough moved down immediately, but swung the same leg more vigorously so she was still hitting Lucy's leg. "Iris, I told you to move down so that wouldn't happen. Quit it!"

When that crisis was over, Lucy got bored with her princess and unicorn and threw them on the floor. "I am done with them." Iris became engrossed in her comic, and Lucy demanded her own Simpsons comic, which was at home. I told her to look at the magazines in a big rack by the chair, and she started fussing at me. "I don't want to look at magazines!"

And my husband wonders why I always put off going to the doctor.