Timing

It's all about timing, right?

Well, this past week my poor little man suffered from severe congestion coupled with a double ear infection and some emerging molars on the side. YUCK! As expected, with a few doses of anti-biotic under his belt, Ayden was up and running again. Nothing made me happier than to see that smile and watch him run (inevitably) in every direction but mine. (Well, truth be told I didn't mind the cuddly, mommy-clinging, under-the-weather bundle I had on my shoulder all weekend....but not more than him feeling good!)

But.... back to the issue of timing.

It just so happens that the day Ayden began to really feel good, Mommy began to really feel crappy...really crappy. So, Ayden in tote, I checked myself into the nearest Minute Clinic (side note - whoever came up with this idea, I could honestly kiss you. And for those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about....that's what Google is for and you are seriously missing out!!) Thankfully, we were the first ones on the list and were taken right in to the approx 4x6 closet they use to see patients. (Another side note - I fully recognize this seems like a dig at the aforementioned 'awesomeness' of the Minute Clinic, but read further for the full context of the statement). Once in the closet....eh hem... room, I was able to set Ayden down and take the designated patient seat. The next 60 seconds was a bit of a blur - granted I could barely see through the fog that my throbbing head created, but I'm pretty sure it went down something like this...

1) Ayden's feet are already running (picture the Roadrunner in the old Wiley Coyote cartoons) prior to them actually touching ground as I gently set him down and take my proscribed seat.

2) Ayden's feet propel him straight for the (unlocked!) medicine cabinets wherein he finds all sorts of interesting 'toys' to throw at a high-rate of speed behind him.

3) I quickly do damage control pondering (praying for) the possibility that in the 4x6 closet in which we found ourselves, whether the on-call NP could have somehow missed the medical projectiles.

4) Before I can shut the cabinet doors, Ayden has taken to tearing any and all papers from the walls. Let me tell you....if you need some de-cluttering of your walls from say 3 feet down, have I got the guy for you.

5) While the NP begins her diagnostic questions, I nonchalantly collect the rip, torn, shredded papers - do a quick assessment of salvage-ability (of which there was none) - and place them in a 'neat' pile on the counter behind her and again return to my seat.

6) By this time Ayden has found the printer, conveniently located on the floor beside her desk and garnishing many many cool colored and flashing lights. While I hold Ayden's probing hands back (with all my strength), the NP proceeds to take my blood pressure......only to conclude that it is 'slightly elevated.' Hum....gee....wonder why?!??! I chuckle and say, 'Only slightly??? Yea, I think I may be little stressed today"

7) Minute 2 commences with a lot of the same....

You get the point. But if I must spell it out....C-H-A-O-S in a 4x6 closet.

It should be noted that through all of this I was (appropriately or not) laughing. Because what else would one expect to happen when you combine sick mother with toddler, a 4x6 closet and more medical supplies than a hospital?!?!?!

Sometime later we emerge and begin the waiting process for the prescription fill.  Looking at the surrounding shelves stock-full of projectiles, no mater how much strength it took, I willed myself to hold on tight to Ayden's squirming body. (who needs the gym when you have a toddler!!)

The day progressed in a very similar fashion - the details of which I won't bore you with, but go something like this....unexpected detour to Lucas'......unexpected work task due in 15min..........after a three hr delay in hitting the road, a U-Turn about an hour outside of Tucson on the way to Palm Springs to visit brother and fam  (I just felt too crappy to go on).

When we finally arrived back home (car packed to the gills for our expected road trip), Ayden's energy was no match for my sick sick head. But what toddler understands that?? So we played and played and played until an angel arrived on my door step.

 An angel in the form of Gram-E, who helped give Ayden a bath and put him to bed.

 (Who'd a thought an innocent face like this could cause so much chaos!)

Lessons learned....
1. *SIGH* Thank God for Moms!! (more a lesson reinforced) and,
2. Ayden is no longer a baby....he's a full fledged toddler!!