Today I had a doctor appointment in the morning -- 17 weeks and counting. It's kind of...interesting taking J to OB appointments with me. As soon as we got there, they handed me the little cup and off to the restroom we went. I tried to occupy J with pulling out paper towels and making a huge mess at the sink ("There you go, sweetie, wash your hands!"), but of course he turned around right as I was going, and yelled out, "Why are you going pee-pee in that cup??" so loudly that I heard the nurse behind the little urine-cup-cabinet-thingy snort laughter. Then he kept it up in the waiting room, asking me loudly every couple of minutes about why I was peeing in the cup and what was the doctor going to do with my pee and why? why? why? why? (I sense a new phase upon us).
Then when we got into the exam room, J kind of freaked about me laying on the table, and started pulling on my arm, saying "Get up, Mommy, get up. I wanna go the park. I'm hungry. I need something to eat," but in this frantic way like he thought they were about to do something Very Bad to me. It was cute, he threw himself in front of me and told the med student, saying "Don't touch my Mommy!" while they started ineptly trying to find the baby's heartbeat (Med Student: "Here it is!" Me: "Um, that's me. 70bpm is kinda slow for a fetus." Med Student: "Maybe it's over...here?" Me: "Really? Under my ribs? I'm only 17 weeks, try a little lower.")
By the time we got home, after having lunch with TH and stopping at Target, I was pooped. J wanted to play with his new sandbox so I opened the patio door and let him have at it while I vegged on the couch. He kept coming inside and pulling my arm, telling me, "Mommy, come play with me, pleeeease? Come play with me!" I finally had to tell him (not as nicely as I intended) that I couldn't play with him all the time because I was just too tired. I felt so bad, the way his little face fell. "Okay," he said, and then he kind of dejectedly went back outside and started kicking rocks around. I told TH later, I guess this is a preview of the mom guilt I'll be feeling (heck, I'm already feeling) once we have the new baby. I can't give J undivided attention every second of every day. I'm already giving attention to the baby, before it's even born, and I can tell that J feels the change in the atmosphere. Oh, well, it's not a bad thing, but today was the first time I actually felt guilty about it.
Practice makes perfect
8 years ago