I was positive that there was something seriously wrong with Rustin today. Fussy is an understatement. He is never fussy. I sat at my desk trying to work while Ryder was gone. Instead, I ran scenarios through my head of all the horrible possibilities. I decide that I must get him into the Doctor immediately. I call and he has an appointment an hour later.
Now before you label me as an overly dramatic worry of a Mom, remember he is just getting over RSV with a Double Ear Infection and a side of Bronchitis. AND...through all of that he never fussed. Struggled to breathe? Yes, but no tears.
I pick up Ryder and the fun begins.
Please tell me I don't have the only 2-year old who is a nightmare at the Doctor's office. Even if I do, just lie. Flat out lie to me. It really will make me feel better.
I promise he is not a bad kid. I promise their office staff feels otherwise. I promise they tell each other that I need a visit from the Super Nanny. I promise that there is something in that office screaming at Ryder the moment we walk in..."Act up!!! Get into everything you can!!! Scream at the top of your lungs when the Doctor talks to your Mom!!! Lick the Floor so you can pick up any germs that might be left over from the previous patient!!! Dig through the trash for napkins and used up tongue depressors!!! Climb over the Nurse so that you can stick your head right in the middle of your brother's legs while she tries to insert a catheter!!! Scream to your Brother that its O.K. and then melt down when he won't stop crying...after all two kids crying is much better than one!!! Grab my leg and continually tell me that your need to use the Potty when you and I both know you really just want to go play with toilet paper "...I could go on, but I won't.
The Verdict: Absolutely, positively not a thing wrong with Rustin. Maybe he just has some gas or his reflux was unusually bad or maybe he was just having an off day. After all..we all have them every now and again. Sigh.
It feels like a circus around here most days. Its reassuring to know that one day I will look back and laugh, missing the pitter-pattering feet of my little angel with a slightly crooked halo.