Ultimate Multi-tasking

To set the scene, I stayed home with Playette on Monday and Tuesday since she was feeling under the weather. She took up about 99.8% of my attention and, in case you didn't know, it is physically impossible [insert eyeroll here] for her to nap at home.

Combining that with the facts that my husband slept on a friend's couch Saturday night so that I could host my Mom's OverNight Out party with me never really cleaning up all the way from said party and then hanging out with my visiting friend all day Sunday and Monday being a complete wash and...well, it was a leetle tense in the Crappy Little House Behind Costco (CLHBC).

Since we weren't communicating on the highest of levels, BD was a no-show when it was time for me to head to my, ahem, Well Woman Exam yesterday afternoon.

Yes, that exam.

So, what to do?

I figured it was good practice for when it's eventually time for BD to deploy. Single mamas make it happen on the daily. "I can do this," I thought, "How, exactly, I don't know, but I can and I will."

I woke Playette up from from her nap in the highchair and we piled up in the car and went. I was embarrassed and sweaty when we arrived, because I just knew that they were going to look at me crazy and send me right back home. It just felt all kinds of wrong.

The nurse assured me that they'd help me out and gave me a cup to fill.

While I attempted a clean catch, Playette practiced flushing the toilet. A lot.

Thankfully, we got out of there without causing a plumbing incident.

Then, my sweet angel child decided to rip up my paper gown before I could get it on and then go through the trash, amongst other things.

Whee, fun!

Wait. That smell? Crap.

While changing her there seemed so non-sterile, I couldn't possibly imagine someone else (you know, when they came to help) discovering my daughter with a filth flarn filthy diaper. I cleared it with the doc and went to work.

More sweating.

Where's the help they promised me?

By the time the doctor and nurse came in, I was a sweaty mess and I saw no purpose at all to me attempting to wear a paper gown because really? Pointless.

Doc tried to start with a breast exam, but Playette decided that she needed to protect me. Now, in all the months I spent pumping, she showed zero interest, but yesterday? Ugh.

The real fun came when it was time to slide down the table.

And, I swear, if you recognize what I've been talking about, then you shouldn't be offended by this. And if you are completely confused, consider yourself lucky and I promise you won't miss anything if you skip the rest of this post. Come back tomorrow when I post a cute pic or something.

Normally, I try to distract myself at this point, but here I am with a toddler on my belly and she needs distracting.

So, again, what to do?

First, I sang the "Five Little Ducks" song, forgetting that when I get to the "little ducks came waddling back" part that Playette always waddles right along to the beat.

Un. Comfortable.

Nurse: Ha! Look, she's waddling!
Me: ACK!

Next up was "Itsy Bitsy Spider" complete with hand movements. That went much better.

You know, relatively speaking and all.

I was so sweaty, but I didn't have time to be embarrassed. Well, more embarrassed.

The doctor gave Playette a sticker at the end. Apparently, she did great. And as much as I couldn't imagine it at the time, I'm apparently not the first person, nor will I be the last, that they've had in this predicament.

Playette already had a sticker from her earlier appointment so I proudly displayed those Disney princess fairy things on my chest.

I earned them.