My job as a mother of two

Poor little Jacer has RSV.

Who gave him permission to get sick?? Not me.

As if I don't have a hard enough time controlling chaos at home on my own with two kids, this means that I have had to take the two of them out together, ALONE. Eek, I know. We'll get to that.

I think Jace started getting sick on Saturday. I wanted to take him to the Urgent Care on Sunday after a really bad night Saturday night, but of course he was better during the day and we talked ourselves out of it.

Monday he was worse. Coughing, snotty, stuffy, etc. Poor little man. It breaks my heart, it really does. I called the doctor's office as soon as I got home from work and they said to bring him down right away. Luckily, Devin was home at the time. Unluckily, that meant that we had to forego our typical Monday afternoon grocery shopping trip (I love grocery shopping. I know, I'm weird) for a trip to the doctor's office instead.

The doctor checked Jace and said he suspected RSV but that we would need to go to the hospital to be checked for sure. He handed me the order form with horrible scribbles that I could not read and sent us on our way. Luckily, the hospital could read his horrible scribbles, which apparently said "Page me with results" and a phone number because we got a call from the doctor about 6 pm stating that the result was positive indeed. He gave us some ideas of what to do (which is nothing, there is nothing you can do) and told us he would like to see us again in his office the next day (today). Instant dread. I knew Devin would be working and that I would need to take the children into the office myself. Argh. Enough to ruin my whole day, I tell you.

It's not as if Jace is the problem. Let's get real here. He sleeps a good 90% of the time and is content when he is awake. The problem lies in a little girl whose name starts with an H and ends in an allie.

I enlisted Devin's help to get them both in the car when I got home from work before he had to take off for work. By the time I got to the doctor's office, Hallie was already chanting incessantly that she wanted fruit snacks. The nurse at the doctor's office has been trained by Hallie to give her fruit snacks and a sticker every time. Poor nurse, to have been whipped into such shape by a two year old. There is nothing I can do, literally nothing, to stop the chant for fruit snacks once Hallie hears mention of the doctor's office. I even tried to bribe her with candy bar. No good. (well, to be honest, she said she would take the candy bar too, but then immediately started her chant for fruit snacks again.)

The office was particularly slow today in getting us back and as they were, Hallie became more and more attached to a hideous doll in a little car seat that she found in the toy room. I could sense immediately that the doll was going to cause us problems. Yes, yes, it did.

While the doctor was checking Jace, Hallie proceeded to undress the doll, remove her diaper, and shout, "Mommy, she pooped!" I of course was trying to act like I was paying attention to the doctor, afterall, my child's health is on the line. But by ignoring Hallie's proclamation that the baby had pooped, it only increased her volume and intensity. "MOMMY!!! SHE POOPED!!!!! CHANGE HER DIAPER!!" "MOM!!!!! SHE NEEDS A NEW DIAPER. SHE IS STINKY!!!!" The balancing act then begins. Eyes trained on the doctor trying to make mental notes of all his instructions, one hand holding onto Jace, the other changing a fake diaper on a fake baby. Shouldn't that appease her? No. The second the diaper is back on, the rips it off again and starts the game over. "MOMMY! She pooped! Change her diaper!" Ahhhh, so fun. The land of pretend in a 2 year old's mind.

At this point, I could see the doctor is sensing that we have had enough. He tells me that he wants me to get some machine to suck Jace's snot out. He wants us to check in again on Thursday. Wait, back up. He takes that back. He will call us on Thursday. No need to, er, pay the co-pay again to come in, he says. (He means, let's not make this poor woman drag her two kids over here again.) And as far as the machine name, he doesn't want us to have to wait around while he finds out its exact name from his partner, so he will text it to me. Yep. The doctor texts me. That's how bad he feels for me.

Leaving the hideous doll at the doctor's office was the next big chore. Hallie ran to the doors and was on her way out before I could catch up and inform her that the doll does not belong to us and that it needs to stay there. Utter. And. Complete. Meltdown. Of course, right in front of the doors where people are trying to come in and out. What do I do? Before, I had two hands and could pry the doll out with one and pick her up with the other. Now, not so much. I glanced around at all the people staring at me and decided quick action had to be taken.

Put Jace's seat down. Grab the doll out of Hallie's hands and chuck it into the toy room. Pick Jace back up. Grab Hallie by the hand and insist that she stand up. No good. Instead, grab Hallie's hand and literally drag her out of the place, down the sidewalk, and all the way to the car. I am sure I got quite a few sympathetic, "oh that poor, awful mother!" glances. Oh well. The alternative was to leave my son in his seat in the office or outside the office, get her strapped in, and go back for him. Not gonna happen.

So- how DO you do it? 2 kids- one mom- out in public-proving to be nearly impossible! What's a woman to do!?

And- let's hope little Jace gets better soon. Sick babies are a sad, sad thing.