This place is a zoo! Control those monkeys!

Today, I think I was that mom... the one other's observe and think has absolutely no control of her children. And I could tell them that it was just a bad day, but they probably wouldn't believe me. Well, the doctor some might believe me; he's been around them enough they've been around them enough. But for the nurses outside the exam room general crowd out there... who knows what they're saying. More on that, though, after the happy stuff!

This morning we made a trip to the wading pool at the kids' favorite city park. This was our first trip to the wading pool this summer... we've spent the last six weeks in swimming lessons. We got to the pool at 9 and left just after 10. I like to go when we're about the only ones there. Later in the morning, it gets pretty crazy. Next time, we'll go at 8 when it opens and get more time in. It's hot enough even that early in the morning that it won't be a problem.

Do you see the sheer joy on Blessing #5's face? The kid was in water heaven! But he still screams in terror at bathtime. I haven't figured that one out.

From the pool, we went to B#5's 11am 18-month well-check. It was one of those doctor's-office mornings. We got back into our room at appointment time, but something happened in the meantime, and we were (yes, all six of us) back there for a loooong time.

Unfortunately the Blessings did not do so well. Tired, hungry, crabby. Those would describe them mildly. They were loud. And they bickered. And I was slowly going nuts. There are so many things that I could write about, but I won't burden you with them all. No, not all of them. Just a meager few.

B#1 got all motherly and bossy... and got lectured for it. To which she had to argue and whine and wail. She was huffy puffy and ornery, and I made her sit on her hands.

When B#2 bumped her funny bone, she cried. Not in soft tears but with screaming wails. She fussed about everything. I made her sit on her hands.

B#3 talked with his volume about two notches too high. ("Turn it down, buddy," I'd say, and he'd grab his ears and twist them. But he was still loud.) He also unrolled a bed's-length of the paper that covers the exam table.

B#4 bumped into the corner of the table and screamed for a good thirty seconds. And then she wet her pants in a big puddle as she sat against the wall. (I would blame it on the fact that we were back there so stinkin' long, but she's on the stubborn-and-lazy side of potty-training... and she refused to go when we made the family trip to the potty before the appointment.) So I mopped up the mess with her already half-way soaked dress, some paper towels, and a few squirts of the hand sanitizer by the sink.

B#5 was fine... until the nurse measured his head. You would've thought she had pulled out a bath tub and towel, the way he started screaming. The doctor asked about his vocabulary. I mentioned how he was knew "milk" and said that a lot.

Note to self: Do not say "milk" when it's past lunchtime and your baby has not eaten or napped.

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