Today was a VERY profitable day to be the Little Scribbler…
LS recieves special education services in our house until July 6, at w hich point she will begin attending a special ed preschool class, five days a week. The process of getting her into said school was so exaughstingly daunting that I won’t even both to describe it you. Suffice to to say, we got her in. Except her home therapist doesnt like the school we picked (although she wont say why), and has been pestering me to visit this other school for several weeks.
With another home session approaching, and my worn out brain empty of excuses, I decided yesterday to just call and tour the school for the sake of permanently ending the discussion. The only time they could see me before our next session was this morning. Fast forward to 735 am, EST.
The Auditor’s alarm has permanently deafened my left ear. I wait…and wait…and wait…and then finally in my early-mrning fog, I realize that the Auditor has already, shall we say, “left the building”. Once again, he’s at work before the sun is even up, and has forgotten to turn off the alarm. I silently (and not-so-silently) curse him for his forgetfulness, and roll out of bed.
CRAP. I have less than one hour to be showered, breakfasted, hair dried, relatively presentable clothes put on (is ANYTHING clean!?), and preform all the same tasks on the Little Scribbler, who typically sleeps til 9am and will NOT appreciate the rushing wake up she’s about to recieve. Perhaps my darling husband’s perpetual forgetfulness comes in handy sometimes…just don’t tell him I said that!
I race in and out the shower, half-blow-dry my hair, manage to find a skirt and top that are clean, and, miraculously, not TOO wrinkly. I search around for my wedding band, but I cant find it, so it gets left behind as I race into LS’s room to roust her a full hour early.
Suffice it to say, we emerge from her room ten minutes later with a fresh diaper, clean clothes, and hair that is, er, mostly brushed. And by the way, she’s not happy about any of it. She didn’t want to wake up, she wanted underwear instead of a diaper (yeah right, like TODAY is the magic day she becomes potty trained? I think not.), she’s not happy with the clothing I’ve decided she’s wearing, and brushing her hair is something akin to clipping a cat’s tonails…but violenter.
Her brand spanking new shoes (which will be covered in mud by the end of the day, keep reading to find out how!) are right by the door, as are my keys and diaper bag. I scoop up child, shoes, bag and keys and we’re on our way!
After a brief struggle in the driveway, Little Scribbler is in her carseat, happy singing away to the Laurie Berkner Band’s newest CD, Rocketship Run (a slow, cruel and repetitive torture, designed to drive the most tolerant and patient parent INSANE), and kicking her new shoes against the back of the passenger seat.
My plan for this preschool visit is to keep LS in her stroller, and provide M and M’s at slow enough intervals that she stays content and doesnt realize she’d rather be out of the stroller wreaking havoc on the preschool. If yo udont know, most special ed preschool tours last about an hour, because in addition to seeing the classrooms, you also get to see the cafeteria, sensory gym, speech and occupational therapy rooms, meet the therapists, etc.
Anyway, long story short, we’re out of M and M’s and need to swing by the CVS. Upon entering the CVS, I realize I have failed to feed the Little Scribbler any breakfast. (This is a palm-slapping-forhead moment– the ONE particular thing about LS is that she eats and fairly regular intervals throughout the day, and her behavior when she’s hungry is ATROCIOUS). OK, no problem, we’re at CVS. I can do this.
I grab a box of Froot Loops (listen, dont judge me, the choices were few!) and look around for a bottle of milk small enough for her to drink in the car. No such bottle exists. Guess she’s getting juice– not just ANY juice, full strength, 100% Welch’s Apple Juice. Apple juice, if you arent aware, has NO nutritional value and more calories than full strength soda. It’s candy in a bottle. We NEVER buy it. Ever. Oh well.
Sugar filled breakfast certain to bring on Type 2 diabetes? Check. M and M’s to round out the food pyramid? Check. And away we go!
90 minutes later we’re done with the tour. All in all, not too terrible. LS only threw one major tantrum, which was easily quelled by a promise to visit the playground as soon as we were done. Suffice to say, there’s no WAY I’m sending LS to that school, but honestly, I knew that going in, so it wasn’t a shock to have it confirmed. Official Time Wasted By Visiting: 120 minutes. Eh, who cares.
So in the car we go. Off to the playground. For an hour we climbed, jump, slid, swung (swang?) and ran up and down the hill. At the top of the hill we went “exploring” and found a butterfly, a yellow flower (dandelion), several sticks, a pincone, and some interesting looking litter. As we got back into the car, a friend called to see if we wanted to play. SCORE! A child to entertain LS while I hang out and chit chat with her mom!
Driving across town, we head to an entirely different playground. This time, theres lots of kids around, and LS and her friend Isabella have a grand old time chasing boys and hiding from the groundskeeper’s leafblower and what not. Isabella’s mom happens to have brought M and M’s to the playground. *sigh*
Which brings Little Scribbler’s food total to: 2 bags M and M’s, half a box of Froot Loops and a liter of Apple Juice. Mother of the Year? Not so much.
A few more minutes go by and I notice LS reach down to scratch her leg. Come to think of it, she’s been doing that since we got to this playground. And yeah, the closer I get to her themore I notice a big patch of red on her skin…and then another patch…
LS is very allergic to bug bites. And we’d just spend an hour running up and down a hill chasing a butterfly…in tall, likely bug-infested grass. Wonderful. Sure enough, both legs are covered in large, angry, red welts. And my ginormous diaper-bag is completely devoid of anything even resembling a bottle of benadryl….even tho this is not the FIRST time we’ve had allergic reactions to bug bites, and a smarter person would have thought ahead and carried benadryl with them at all times. *bigger sigh*.
Back in the car and headed once again to the same CVS, which is thankfully only a few blocks away. On t he drive over, it strikes my memory that all this little kid medicine was just recalled a few weeks ago, and theres a strong likelihood CVS will be out of Benadryl, necessitating a trip to the pediatrician (and a $25 copay) so that they can give her THEIR Benadryl.
Luckily, CVS has Benadryl. What the still do NOT have, is anything to drink other than Apple Juice. As we’ve just spent several hours outside in the hot sun, the ever-reddening Little Scribbler is quite thirsty.
As we stand in line to pay, LS sipping on 250 calories of golden liquid candy, I glance down at her legs, now covered completely in red patches, as if she’s got an AWFUL sunburn. She’s scratching like mad, with big, sad, puppy eyes pleading with me to make it stop. She’s spies the M and M’s on the display at the counter, and in an instant, we both know what’s going to occupy her hands on the drive home.
Yes, aside from the itching (which subsided quite quickly after a nice dose of generic children’s benadryl), it was quite a profitable day to be the Little Scribbler! Packs of M and M’s =3. Box of Froot Loops =1. Liters of Apple Juice =2. Vegetables = 0. Playground Trips=2. Butterflies Seen =1. Sticks Collected =7. Currently, she’s sitting on the couch watching Olivia, wearing her Halloween costume. Nope, not a bad day at all…from HER perspective!