oh, the lies

My girls like to fib. This morning, Bella came in to get me up after Steven left for work. She said, "Daddy say we don't eat tuptakes, we throw them in trash can," cleverly, I mumbled, "What?" She repeated her sentence and then added that we should eat them before Daddy threw them out. "Daddy say we tan eat them for becktess." I laughed and said that I did not think Daddy said we should eat cupcakes for breakfast. She continued to insist that we should eat them, and soon, or else it was the trash can for them.

A few weeks ago my friend, Amy, watched the girls while I worked out. They were over at Amy's friend's house, who has a baby that still nurses. So when I picked them up, Goo was filling me in on what they had done; she said she had told them about when she was born and had the "heart boo-boo." She said then Amy hugged her and gave her too much love. I asked how you could get too much love. She went on to say that Amy had swaddled her like an infant and made her take a bottle...because you know, the friend's baby still drank out of a bottle. After that, Amy tried to rock her to sleep, according to Goo. Amy's pretty funny, so I could see her joking around and wrapping her up, although forcing a bottle on her seemed a little much; however, if Goo was begging for a bottle and wanting to pretend to be a baby, well, maybe...Talking later, though, Amy did give her lots of hugs but everything else was completely made up.

Why kids should pick up their toys

Yesterday afternoon I was getting ready to go work out. I got a load of laundry out of the dryer in an attempt to find a clean sports bra and since I am 5 loads behind on folding laundry, there was no available basket; I had to carry it loose. I'm walking down the hall way and it feels like I hit a patch of ice. next thing I know, I'm sprawled out on the floor--I fell all the way down! There was an excruciating pain in my left big toe; it had bent all the way forward. It was an exquisitely sharp, lingering pain that almost made me cry, and did make me pound the floor with my fists and scream. Ysa attempted to lighten the situation by coming over, bending down, and then mocking my half cry/half scream face and then laughing. I look around to see why the hell I fell down and I see a purple rubber ducky, laying on its side and smiling up at me, a puddle of water leaking from the squeak thing on the bottom. A fucking rubber ducky. I thought I broke my toe, but maybe just a bad bruise--I went to my workout anyway and we worked around it.

If my Bella is the type to laugh at other's misfortune, Goo makes up for it in excess worry. She asked over and over whether I would be all right. "It's not broken, right, Mama? You're okay, right? Your toe's gonna be fine, right? Right? Right, Mama?" After about 15 minutes: "How's your toe, Mama? It's gonna be fine, right? Does it feel better?" And then this morning: "I bet your toe's all better, right? Does it hurt less now, Mama?" Through all this I did reassure her, told her even if it was broken it would be fine, nothing bad would come out of a broken toe, and thanked her for her concern.

I do feel bad she worries so much; she's just like me in that regard. However, after awhile I used a technique taught to me by one of my professors. When she asked again if it was going to be all right, I said, "No, probably I will get gangrene and will have to chop it off." Then, she laughed. She said, "That's silly, Mommy, you don't get gangrene from a broken toe, you would have to put tight rubber bands around your toe until you cut the circulation off." Hmmm...wonder where she got that information?

Epilogue to Adventures at the VA

When I got home from the VA, I checked my email. The following email is from Old Fat Guy who interviewed me and set up my physical; it was cc'd to Karen, my area coordinator and all the interns:

Employee Health advised that you are not allowed to bring children when
coming for the physical. Those who are not scheduled, please contact me
as soon as possible. I had earlier left phone messages and also sent a
separate email to you in this regard.
Thanks

First, what a liar. I did not receive an email nor voice mail saying not to bring your children. What I think: He's now Weasel-Dick Cover Your Ass Guy. This was my reply to my coordinator, Karen, only:

In regards to the email sent about children not being allowed to attend the physical: I was not told of a no child policy in the phone call that I received late yesterday afternoon about an appointment at 8:30am today. Also, I didn't receive an email. I didn't think to ask as my children usually go to all of my doctor appointments with me. They allowed me to complete the physical anyway, so I am not sure what this email means. This makes me feel a little funny because it seems like someone complained about me bringing my children with me and then this email was sent so that it looks like I disregarded information or procedures and that is not what happened. I just wanted to let you know I did not disregard any information.
Thanks,

I was feeling very emotional yesterday and it made me cry, mostly with frustration that someone would lie about such a stupid thing and also that my children being with me is some sort of faux pas. My children aren't loud burps or embarrassing flatulence, they're cute little kids that I like to have around and are pretty funny. Oh well, some people suck.

Adventures in the VA

I am excited about my new internship at the VA. I've never worked with dying people and that's what I'll be doing and the social worker who will be supervising me is enthusiastic...an amazing attribute after being a social worker for nearly 30 years.

Anyway, it's already turned into a minor inconvenience because the training starts before the actual semester and I have no child care for Goo so I have to scramble to find that. Then, I get a call Monday afternoon at 4:30 from the guy who interviewed me and I guess is the intern coordinator. He asks if I can come for my pre-employment physical the next morning at 8:30. Because I like to be accommodating, I say yeah, sure and take down the information. Here's an aside: I take my kids most everywhere. Post office, grocery store, weddings (if they're welcome), and yes to my doctor appointments. I can't afford to get a sitter every time I go to the doctor, so both my girls have even accompanied me to my yearly gynecological exam. I think it serves to show them it's no big deal.

I show up at the VA with my kids to begin the labyrinth that is government bureaucracy. First you must go to the receptionist in Employee Health to fill out paper work. The disdain started here. Receptionist Lady With Helmet Hair said, "I don't know if they can see you with your children; the doctor has to do an exam, you know." I told her I always take my kids with me to the doctor. In a condescending tone, she said, "But this is for employment." I thought to myself, "Yeah, it's an unpaid internship and I'm not working *today* so what do you care?" Instead, I smiled politely and apologized and explained I didn't have child care; that my husband works for UF and this was his rush time of year. She then asked me if another day would work out better...no, no it wouldn't. Everyday is the same: all of my friends work and the one friend that's home for the summer is on vacation. With a sigh, she said to fill out the paper work and she would check to see if they could see me.

I fill out the paperwork in the hallway. Bella thinks it great fun to remove her shoes and race around crazily. I have to put a stop to that after she nearly causes old folks with canes and walkers to break a hip. Bella is not one for sitting still. I finally had to hold her on my lap while I attempted to write. I had a click pen so what's fun (if you are a 3 year old imp) is to retracted to the pen while mama tries to detail her mental health disorders for the federal government. Ahhh, done.

Turns out they can see me today but we have to wait in reception for 10 minutes or so. Goo is regaling the lady with stories of her "special" school where they have chickens and peacocks, her "real jade" earrings, and the fact that Bella's favorite songs are the ones about nummy milk. The lady found Goo charming, but she seemed to think we were a strange family. Especially strange was the special school with peacocks. Receptionist Lady says we are to go see the nurse for vital signs. Down the hall, turn left, then right. Take her this paper work.

We have to wait for 15-20 minutes for the nurse to see us. I try to keep my children occupied; we read cartoon pamphlets about reducing the spread of TB; I read an inspirational story about surviving end stage breast cancer in "Cancer Monthly." Bella wants to climb on the chair rail attached to the wall. I give up and let her with my assistance while reading the bulletin board postings to Goo. Oh, good there's Unsmiling Nurse Lady, bastardizing my last name. Ummm, more disdain. "Do you have someone to watch them?" "No, aren't you going to just take my vital signs?" Big Sigh. "Yes. your vital signs." We all troop in. She takes my blood pressure and temperature. Goo and Bella DO NOT DESTROY THE EQUIPMENT! THEY DON'T RUIN MY VITALS! WHOO HOOO! "You can go back and wait for the doctor," she says looking at my kids pointedly, "he will have to examine you." I bet she doesn't know that both my girls have seen me spread eagle while the midwife examines me. I should have asked if he was going to look at my coochie snorcher.

More waiting. More reading medical literature. More climbing on the rails. Obese Greasy Hair Lady With Ugly Biker Tank Top keeps looking at my children and muttering, "Jesus Christ." They were not doing anything atypical. Goo was being exceptionally cooperative. Bella was just frustrated by the wait. But no yelling, screaming, crying, tantrums. None of that.

Our turn at last with Uptight Doctor Man. He looked in my eyes, ears, throat. Bella stood up on the examining table and looked at a picture. Uptight Doctor Man freaked out and ordered me to get her down. I did. Uptight Doctor Man checked my reflexes; Bella stood up on chair. Doctor freaked again, "Don't let her stand up in that chair! She might fall and hurt herself!" I told her that the doctor didn't like her to stand up because he was afraid she would fall and hurt herself. Weird Uptight Doctor said, as if I was a moron, "Well, I don't mind if she stands on the floor." Well, no shit. Then he pokes my stomach, listens to my heart and lungs and makes me stand up and touch my toes. He didn't look at my coochie snorcher, or even my nummies. Time to go to the lab, back past Big Hair Receptionist Lady down the hall to the left.

Interestingly enough, the people in the lab didn't look askance at my children one bit. Here was the one place where they could have actually been a problem, since I had to have blood drawn and pee in a cup. Bella sat in my lap while the guy drew my blood, she could have squirmed and the needle stick would have hurt, but she didn't. Why? She's seen me get blood work plenty of time. The whole time Friendly Blood Draw Guy joked with Goo about being a vampire, which she thought was hilarious. Even more endearing to my children, he gave them candy. Then he gave me a cup to go pee in. It's great entertainment to watch Mama pee in a cup. The staff never questioned my ability to take care of my children and get my business taken care of. Maybe because they are considered "paraprofessionals" and probably are low rent like me and actually take their children on errands because they don't have babysitters waiting in the wings. I don't know.

Now for the fingerprints. Here's a question: If the fingerprint office is in the main part of the hospital, why does one have to go outside, behind the hospital to the HR office to get a piece of paper to fill out and take back to the Understanding Fingerprint Lady? Why not have the paper in the fingerprint office? I know, I know, there is no logical answer. Our last encounter at the VA was with Understanding Fingerprint Lady. She wasn't rude to my children, she also gave them candy and after she had fingerprinted me and took my picture for my badge, she took another picture of the three of us and printed up three extra badges, one for each of us. A kind, kind woman.

When we got back in the car, it was 11:20. We were there for over 21/2 hours. The guy who set it up said 15-20 minutes. I guess that was actual time spent with medical personnel, minus the wait.

You know, I felt like a freak. The people there looked at my kids like they were aliens. I know that this VA treats mostly older people at this point, but still, people there probably have their own children, or grandchildren. It appears some people think kids should only be seen in the context of "kid places," like playgrounds, schools, their own homes. They aren't foreign creatures. I just don't understand.