About a month ago, Kyle was out of town the whole week. On that Wednesday nite Zoe's lying on the ground, w/o a diaper on. We've already very successfully and happily gone potty (yes! potty training has started!), brushed our teeth, and said good nite to Lola and Sophie. I'm already in my pjs cause it's sort of been a long day and I'm sore from lifting 600 pounds of bathroom tiles. I'm envisioning hot cocoa and some crap on TV, or the other book I just started (I can't seem to get anywhere on this historical fiction Civil War book). We're laughing and having fun. I pick Zoe up by her wrists and 'fly' her over to the dresser so we can put on a night-time diaper. She lands, looks at me confusedly, and starts crying. "Elbow! Icy!"
Again. I hate those unstable joints. Ugh.
Put diaper on Zoe. Put real clothes on both of us. Convince Zoe not to move her left arm during all of this. Call pedi nurse hotline. They call back one minute later and say to go ahead and take her to Dell Children's Hospital, thankfully only 5 minutes away. Ugh.
She was awesome in the car and the waiting room. Not crying at all, just watching everything and not moving her left arm. It was busy there - barely an open seat. She only started crying again when they wanted to weigh her and take her temp. Dr came in, did her rotating elbow magic, and said this will likely keep happening til she's about 5. Ugh.
Zoe said she didn't want to go home, she wanted to stay at the doctor's (the hospital).
We came home around 11pm to dogs that needed to pee, a daughter that wanted noodles (she got yogurt), and a bag full of odiferous diapers and human waste, which I had left in the hallway in my rush to get out. The next day was trash day.
Note that she did not in fact play with Aidan
the previous nite, but the previous week. Ah well.
Understanding time is hard.
the previous nite, but the previous week. Ah well.
Understanding time is hard.
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