B9

I've been at home the past couple days caring for my sick little baby chunk.

Can we just talk about how much more exhausting staying at home with a child is then actually going to the office?

Because it totally is, and if you don't believe me, then I invite you to stay with a three year old for 48 hours straight. You might change your mind, and if you don't then you're probably just a big fat liar.

The naps are a nice break in the day, but after chasing around a festival of manic energy non-stop, they actually become more of a necessity than a perk.

Seriously, a big shout out to my stay at home moms because that is the hardest job anyone could possibly do.

The whole not commuting part was also pretty nice, and the whole not having to get ready was nice too.

I pretty much look like a homeless person today, but it's nothing that can't change before tomorrow.

Notice how I said "can't" rather than "won't"? 

Just kidding, I'll shower.

Our little breaky-break started out at the doctor's office bright and early Tuesday morning, complete with a pretty awesome parking spot. Win!

At this point in my child's life, I am still transitioning from babyhood to not-babyhood.

There are times when I look at Reese and I seriously am baffled by the child he has somehow morphed into over night. How did you get so big?!

Because I swear, just yesterday he was just being born. Where does the time go?

It's those, "Holy crap, you're really NOT a baby anymore!" moments that really take me by surprise. 

This doctor visit was one of those times.

We get to the doctor's office, and immediately he has to use the bathroom. 

This is not surprising, because as a newly potty-trained guy, he's all about checking out any and every bathroom he can.

He pees. We go into the room and wait for the doctor, and while we wait we look at some picture book, picking out the farm animals and what not. He farts.

 At this point the smell is so god awful in this tiny little room.

I mean honestly, how could something so rank come out of a 35 pound toddler?

That is something I'm still trying to figure out, but nonetheless it did.

 I pray silently that the doctor does not come in at this point, because Reese isn't in diapers anymore, so it's not like I have an immediate out in a situation like that.

 PLEASE, take your time coming into this tiny gas chamber, Doctor. I promise, we are not in a rush, and I will not talk shit about the fact you weren't on time.

The "I don't know what that smell is! I guess the baby crapped his pants again" excuse would not have worked without a baby, in a diaper, who could have possibly crapped his pants again.

After Reese proudly announces to me that he just farted, (as if I had no idea that it had happened) I ask if he had to go to the bathroom, AGAIN. He says yes, of course, so that is where we head. Luckily, the doctor was actually turning the corner on his way into the room while we were headed out. WHEW, crisis averted; at least now the door was open and there was time to air out a bit before we returned.

This must be a guy thing, or so I'm told, but Reese loves to point out the size of his poop.

 That sounds like this, "Mommy! Look how big my poop is!"

Whenever you're three, you really don't care what other people think. You don't think about innocent bystanders that may be hearing what you just shouted at the top of your three year old lungs... awkward.

We go back to the room that is now, thankfully, less of a death trap.

The doctor comes in, and Reese proudly tells him about the big dump he just took in the bathroom and that he washed his hands afterwards; he reiterates to the doctor that the poop, indeed, went into the toilet. The doctor actually played along in this conversation like it was not out of the ordinary to be talking with a three year old about bathroom activities, but I guess when you are a pediatrician it really isn't out of the ordinary.

We leave the doctors office with prescriptions, stickers, and suckers in hand.

For a sick kid, he is the smiley-est little kid ever, and his sunny disposition is just infectious. (No pun intended..hehe)

Of course, this is something that he inherited from me, because I too have been told that I have a sunny disposition as well as a pretty face. 

However, Reese's asthma? While the doctor, who used to be my pediatrician as well, asked me if I still use my inhaler... Which I don't by the way... the asthma didn't come from me, but we've already had this talk.

Even though being a temporary stay at home mom was tiring,

I am not looking forward to going back to work tomorrow.

I'll miss being with Reese all day, but luckily tomorrow is already Thursday, so just a couple more days until the weekend.