matt asked me to write more about the trials and tribulations of being a mom. he loves it when i talk about being a mom in the suburbs. based on his request, here’s another exciting parenting recap.
today, the triplets and i went to the ear, nose and throat doctor. it was the first time i’ve taken them by myself to the hospital/doctor’s buildings where they were born without a triplet stroller, wagon or some restraining device so i was a little nervous about if they would play follow the leader and hold hands. they can do very well at walking together and holding hands but it is a tenuous situation where sometimes lily decides her brother’s hands is evil and cannot be held or jack decides it is a good time to stop and spin in circles. i didn’t have much choice because they have, sob, outgrown their triplet wagon. they are just too big to be strapped in and i’m faced with increasing independence which can be scary for all of us.
when we got there, i realized the boys had fallen asleep in their car seats so i parked, roused them awake and convinced the triplets to hold hands. we walked through the parking lot, down the long, “wheelchairs as obstacles” sidewalk, through the crowded lobby, in the elevator, down the winding hallway until we were finally at the ENT’s office. it was about a ten minute walk with me cheering the three year olds on in a slightly too loud voice. “come on guys! you can do it! follow me! this way* (insert sweeping hand motions)”. i have become a cheerleader for preschoolers.
we finally arrived at the office and i began the process of stripping off coats, hats and gloves. the kids were now wide awake and bouncing around the room. i checked in at the window- early i might add- and she handed me a stack of 15 forms to update the boys’ files because i hadn’t been there in a year. fine, i know the drill. i sat there and tried to remember how many ear infections they’ve had since their last sets of tubes fell out until i finally scrawled, “too many to count”. the kids were alternately hugging other people in the waiting room and climbing the chairs trying to reach the marionettes hanging from the ceiling and pointing at the giant wall map.
it was pretty much chaos. as i turned the paperwork in, i realized i hadn’t brought my purse with me because i was holding hands and didn’t want it falling down my arms. i explained this to the office administrator who took my forms and she pursed her lips at me. i explained that i had given their insurance numbers on the phone to book the appointment two months earlier, that the surgeon has performed multiple surgeries on each one of my four children and personally knows me and that they were welcome to call and verify benefits. a few minutes later, as i was peeling one of the kids off a wall, she poked her head out to tell say, “I know this may be a pain but my office manager said you need to go get either your license or insurance cards.” Ain’t. No. Way. I told her I would like to speak to the office manager and explain that I didn’t want to leave with three three year olds for 20 more minutes to get their insurance cards. She stammered something about verification and said she’d find out. I wasn’t asked to go out to the car again. As we waited, I entertained the entire waiting room of parents and kids by reading a book on 100 different types of trucks. Afraid of public speaking? Have a few kids at once and watch yourself transform into an extrovert who will do anything to get them to shut up in a room full of strangers.
After we were called back, sans documentation, we waited more for the doctor in one of the rooms as I danced and sang to keep the kids from playing with the doctor’s instruments (what IS IT with otoscopes? i’m buying them each a damn otoscope for christmas because evidently, it is the best toy on earth. until it is in your ear, then it is a tool from the devil that must be shouted out). The doctor, whom I’ve met countless times, has performed half a dozen surgeries on my kids and have talked with on the phone, was in an odd mood. When one of the kids balked, he told him, “You have to, this is my office and you have to do what I say.” It was funny because he is such a mild-mannered man and he didn’t say it in a cutesy-kid voice- it was more like “You will do this now because I’m telling you to and it does not matter that you are three.” The man performs surgeries on NICU babies everyday and is known as one of the best ear, nose and throat doctors in town. There is a months long waiting list to see him as a new patient and he’s been putting tubes in ears since I was a kid. He doesn’t have any kids of his own though- that says something. I think he’s smarter than me and I really like him, he’s just a little odd.
After examining both boys, Dr. decrees, “only one good ear out of the four of them” and the other three fluid filled. He asked me if they snored and I honestly answered I have no idea since I put them in their room awake, they fall asleep and I let them out again when they wake up. I don’t hear them snore in the car though. Doctor thinks their adenoids made need to come out when he does the tubes since the fluid isn’t draining and this is their second round of tubes. He shall see when they are sedated and on the table if they need to come out but if they do, he says a “special tool that cauterizes after it cuts” will be used to remove the pesky adenoids and there “won’t be much pain” which probably means pain and lots of recovery room screaming followed by ice cream and short memories. I hope. I am tired of ear infections and ready to move on past this stage, especially since the fluid build up is causing further hearing/speech delays which leads to more tantrums.
Surgery is in a bit over a week so I have time to obsess over possible general anesthesia complications and get teary about my babies having surgery and then do a happy dance over the possibility of an ear infection free Christmas and winter.
* Best comment from a stranger today as I guided the kids through the building, “It’s like herding cats!”
