I used to say that Friday the Thirteenth was always a lucky day for me, but I'm firmly convinced now that Friday the Thirteenth sucks ass.
First of all, I had Julian on a Friday the Thirteenth, which was fantastic compared to NOT having him and continuing to be in labor, or dying in childbirth or something, but a traumatic emergency C-section wasn't my idea of a good day. Still, the jury was out on that assessment, as he did enter the world that day, and that definitely counts as a positive.
Last Friday though, was nothing but shit from morning to night.
We started off with a crabby morning, lots of whining and near-meltdowns. A temporary break in the shittiness came when we went to Julian's Spanish class with the fabulous Susy, but even so it was an unusually annoying class session.
There is one girl who is always practically *standing* on top of Susy while she's trying to teach the class. If we're naming the colors of felt balloons pasted to a board, then this girl is trying to rip the felt balloons off the board. And her Dad sits at the very back of the room and calls her name out weakly every once in a while without moving a muscle..."Natalia, Natalia". Then he gives up, and she continues wreaking havoc. I feel like smacking them both. I was totally giving the dad the evil eye, willing him to get up off his freakin' ass and remove his kid from the props the rest of us were trying to look at and name.
Julian sits on my lap during the entire class. I mean, he wants to, but if he were pulling that kind of stuff he wouldn't have a choice. I don't get these parents who just sit on their asses while their kids pull stuff apart and annoy the rest of us to death.
There is another, older girl who is the class know-it-all. Everything that Susy does, she has to loudly question it or comment on it:
"Why do you have a worm puppet on your arm?"
"Why is that monkey wearing a hat?"
"I KNEW you were going to jump out and surprise us."
"We've SEEN this video already."
Granted, her mom does come up and tell her to pipe down at least once per class session. And she also tells her to speak Spanish when she does pipe up. Then the girl gets an enraged look on her face and says, "I'll talk when I WANT to!"
Anyway, both these two were in full annoying force last Friday. I felt bad for Susy.
We got home and Julian started going wild again. He was jumping on the bed and I grabbed him by the arms to swing him down. As I swung him down (not hard) he suddenly screamed, "MY ARM!" and grabbed it like it was broken.
It being very close to naptime, I wasn't sure if this was an exaggerated response, but it didn't seem like it. I decided to wait and see if he calmed down. He didn't. I gave him some Childen's Motrin and iced his wrist (which he said was the part that hurt), and put an Ace bandage on him. He took a very brief nap in my arms, but then woke up crying again. At that point I decided that it was probably serious, so I called the pediatrician.
They could take us right away, luckily. so we sped over there, Julian crying the whole way, and me trying to lift him and carry him without moving his arm. Yeah, right. Poor kid.
The doctor checked him and said she could rule out an injury to the shoulder and collarbone, but that his elbow and wrist seemed tender, so we should go for X-rays just to be sure.
Back in the car, and over to the radiologist's office. While we were waiting, some odious, hateful old man was complaining to the receptionist while I was signing in:
"She told me they couldn't see me until I filled out the release forms. I tell ya, if I had had a shotgun I would have blown her damn head clean off right there!"
I said, "That's really nice. Jesus Christ!" and walked back over to Julian.
Then the X-ray nightmare began. Julian was supposed to hold his arm on top of the X-ray plate at a completely awkward angle. It would have hurt my normal arm to hold it that way, all bent around sideways, so imagine asking a 2.5 year old to hold his hurt arm like that, still, for a stranger, under tense circumstances. Oh, and I couldn't stay in the room, because I'm pregnant, so Julian was supposed to get his arm in position and hold it there while I left and shut the door. Yeah, and then monkeys will fly out of my ass.
What happened instead was...surprise...a total meltdown, screaming, crying, you name it. Refusal to move the arm away from his body, much less put it over the X-ray plate. I could not imagine how this was going to work. The radiologist was very nice and patient, but I could tell he didn't see it happening either.
He asked me if there was anyone else I could call who could stay in the room to help hold Julian's arm while it got X-rayed. Sure dude, let me just call the SWAT team I have standing by to rush in and help me with these types of childcare assistance tasks. By the way, if this ordeal lasts another SECOND I am going to tear out my own eyeballs and run screaming into the street.
Instead I said no, there wasn't anyone for me to call. So we tried putting the plate vertically so that he could stand up and hold his arm against it. Still no dice.
Finally I grabbed the screaming Julian, got eye to eye with him, and said very slowly and seriously, "Look. I NEED you to do this. We're going to take a picture of your arm to see if it is hurt. We cannot leave until we get that picture. I know you're having a bad day, and your arm hurts, but we HAVE to take the picture, and you MUST help hold your arm still. Now get over there and put your arm against the plate. NOW. If you do a good job we'll go get some ice cream afterwards. If you don't, we're just going to stay here."
Unbelievably, he stopped screaming and stood sniffling with his arm held up. I placed it in position and asked him if he could hold it for the nice man to take a picture while Mommy left for one just minute. He said yes.
After that it was a big pride thing for him. "I held my arm still Mama! He took a picture! I'm a big boy!" The radiologist took all the X-rays, putting him in the positions required, and Julian held it each time, even wearing the 20-pound lead testicle-shielding apron without complaining.
When we were done, he was no longer complaining about his arm at all, and when we got in the car he clambered right in and announced. "My arm feels much better now Mama." Which was both a huge relief and utterly infuriating, all at the same time.
We got some ice cream, which was probably the high point of the day. He hadn't napped, and we had mostly missed a playground date with some friends, but there was still about half an hour before it ended, so I decided to go to the playground and try to get some playtime in before it was over and our friends went home. Such a horrible day deserved at least an *attempt* at fun and normalcy, right?
I put my brand new Razr cell phone (the one it had taken me two years to qualify for the free deal on) on top of the car while I was strapping Julian in, and apparently forgot to pick it up afterwards. Turning a corner on the way to the playground I heard something hit the pavement hard, so I pulled over, got out of the car and started looking along the street to see what I had dropped.
I saw my new cell phone on the pavement, all banged up and dinged on the bottom. It wouldn't turn on. Grrrrrrrr. I hope the insurance I bought this time went through.
Back in the car, we arrived at the playground just in time for everyone to leave. Well, we got a little bit of playtime, but it was late and cold by then. So back in the car, and home. Traffic jammed the streets. I almost rear-ended the car in front of me.
The evening continued on a stressful note. Julian had trouble going to sleep, being so overtired. I didn't sleep well that night either. But at least that terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day was over.
The doctor called and said that the radiologist felt that the X-rays weren't quite good enough to be "conclusive", but it appeared that there weren't any breaks or fractures. After Julian said his arm felt better, he never complained about it again.
Personally I think I may have slightly dislocated his elbow when I hauled him off the bed (apparently it's very common?) and then when I was wrestling with his arm to get it in position for the X-ray it popped back into place. Mommy hurteth, and Mommy fixeth again. Sigh.
Also, I thought my new cell phone was totally broken, since I couldn't start it up again after it was flung off my car roof when I rounded the corner. But when I got home and charged it, it worked again. It's all banged up, but it works. Whew.
I have to say though, that almost every day has been fairly crappy ever since. Not to the extent of THAT DAY, but crappy nonetheless. We just seem to be having a tough time lately. And now we all have colds again too. Oh joy.