I am a sucker.
That has to be it. That has to be the reason that I continue to be coerced into bringing one or more children with me to do errands that are often far from kid-friendly.
Daddy is clearly NOT a sucker. When he needs to run to the store for milk, he just walks out the front door, all by his lonesome, and goes to the store for milk. Does he care that he left at least two heartbroken little boys behind crying big crocodile tears because all they wanted in the whole, wide world was to push the mini carts at Brookshire? I’m not sure he even noticed. When Daddy needs to use the restroom, he goes into the bathroom, closes the door, and takes care of business with no audience. Is he daunted by the banging on the door and the begging to come in and the weeping and wailing right outside? No, not even a little bit.
It is completely and totally, 100% UNFAIR.
For one, it is completely unfair that men, in general, act on logic without being swayed by irrational emotions (namely GUILT) the way that women tend to be. Secondly, it is unfair that men are aware of women’s irrational, emotional, guilt-induced tendencies and then use those tendencies as a weapon against us.
So here is how 99% of Mama’s errand-running and appointment-meeting and business-doing are destined to go:
1. Mama will prepare to leave, either the premises or just the room.
2. One, two, or all children will begin to tear up, pooch their little lip(s), and ask pitifully if they can go, too.
3. Mama will gently yet firmly explain that she really needs to go alone.
4. Tears will fall. Begging will begin. Someone might lie on the ground and convulse.
5. Daddy will look at Mama and say in a logical voice, “They’re going to cry the whole time you’re gone…”
6. Mama will start to feel a twinge of guilt. The convulsions increase.
7. Daddy will say in a hopeful voice, “It would really be helpful if you could take AT LEAST one of them…”
8. Mama’s resolve begins to crumble. She likes to be helpful. And the room is starting to flood from all the tears.
9. Daddy will say in a persuasive voice, “I could get a lot of work done around here if you took someone with you…”
10. Mama caves.
And THAT is how Mama ends up sitting on the toilet with one child on her lap and two more examining the ins and outs of the bathroom while Daddy watches TV alone in the other room.
But the worst—the ABSOLUTE WORST—place to be suckered into taking a child/children with you, is to the OB-GYN.
I’ve been sucked into taking the kids with me for my last two OB appointments. Neither were at all pleasant. Here’s a glimpse at how they went…
Appointment #1: 1-year-old only in attendance
Activity: Initial (internal) ultrasound
Result: Cheerios brought for entertainment strewn EVERYWHERE in the examination room. Pacifier dropped repeatedly, so half-naked mama repeatedly forced to hop off the examination table and run like mad to retrieve said pacifier before doctor walks in to a full moon. Entertainment Cheerios supply depleted, so baby resorts to ripping chunks off of Mama’s paper gown and lap cover. Obese Mama’s lap cover and gown, which were already insufficient, are 33.3% destroyed by the time doctor arrives. With Mama flat on her back and slightly busy during the examination, baby’s feelings are hurt and shows his displeasure by wailing throughout the remainder of the appointment.
Upon arrival back at the house, I swore to my husband that I would NEVER again be suckered into taking the baby with me to an OB appointment under the false assertion by my husband that, “He’ll be easy! He’ll be contained in his stroller! He won’t be any problem at all!”
But I never swore anything about the other two kids, so…
Appointment #2: 4-year-old and 2-year-old in attendance
Activity: Urine sample
Result: Mama, I need to tee tee first! (Mama dances while waiting…) Mama, what is that? (It’s a cup…) Mama, what are you doing? (I have to tee tee into this cup…) Why? (They have to test my tee tee to make sure the baby is okay…) How do they test your tee tee? (I don’t know, baby. They just run some tests…) Can I have a cup? (No.) What is this? (It’s the marker so I can write my name on my cup…) Can I write something? (No.) I want to tee tee in a cup! (No, you can’t tee tee in a cup. Only mamas get to do that…) Mama, you know girls don’t really tee tee, right? They only pooh pooh. (No, baby. Girls tee tee…) How do they tee tee? (They just tee tee…) But why don’t they tee tee like THIS? (Because girls aren’t made like boys…) Why not? (They just aren’t, baby…) Well, I bet you could do it if you tried! (Well, maybe, but I think I’ll just sit down…) Why? (Because that’s how I feel comfortable using the potty…) But why? (Please let’s be done with this conversation!)
Upon arrival back at the house, I swore to my husband that I would NEVER again be suckered into taking the older boys with me to an OB appointment under the false assertion that, “It’ll be easy! They can just sit with you and watch TV while you chat with the doctor! It’s not like you have to do anything crazy like that ultrasound last time!”
I have another 5 months-worth of appointments. We’ll see how my resolve holds up…