Preferred Parking & Press Conferences

Today, as I walked into a doctor’s office for the 6th time in the last 7 days, I decided our name should be memorialized on the huge “Our Most Benevolent Partners” wall that is the focal point of the entry of our local hospital. I’m pretty sure we have “donated” enough to earn an at least an honorable mention spot.

On second thought, I’d rather have a designated parking place. It doesn’t even have to be at the very front. I drive the soccer mom’s equivalent of a tank, so, could this parking place please be extra wide? While I’m dreaming, I’d also love to be able to pull into it by making a right turn, since I can almost promise you I’ll hit the car next to me if I have to pull in from the left. Seriously. I have to pass up parking spots at the front of Target ALL THE TIME because I can’t make left turns into parking spots without crushing something.

I took the boys to see our doctor today.  Again. For the second time and for the same crazy problem.  Standing in the middle of the crowded waiting room, I felt like I was holding a press conference.  I found myself fielding questions from our “audience” as I tried to keep two very curious two-year-olds from touching and possibly infecting anyone or anything.

We are apparently a phenomenon that, like pregnancy, somehow causes the majority of people in our wake to absolutely lose all of their inhibitions and ask the craziest questions. Out loud.

“Yes, sir, you in the orange shirt. They are identical twins.”

“Yes, ma’am, you in the back. Yes, they were born on the same day. Surgical delivery, thanks for asking.”

[Same guy in the orange shirt] “Yes, sir. They’re identical… So yes, they’re both boys.”

“Oh, no ma’am, I’m not expecting again right now (OR EVER, if you must know), but thanks SO MUCH for noticing that I haven’t made it to Pilates in a few weeks.”

I’ll pause here to be thankful they’re only gawking and asking questions now, instead of not only inquiring, but also touching me inappropriately. True story- When I was about 3 months along with the twins, I got up during a work staff meeting, and on my way to get some water (or, maybe it was my third brownie…), a co-worker stopped me, lifted up my shirt, rubbed my bare belly, and said, “Can’t wait to see how big you get with two in there!!”

Mercifully, we don’t usually have to wait long to see our pediatrician, so I didn’t have to satisfy too much random curiosity today, but REALLY!!! I wish my kids, who have been truly miserable the last few days, would at least act a TINY bit sick instead of having a party in the waiting room and laughing hysterically at each other’s antics while I’m trying to talk to the doctor…

Sorry to cut this one short, but I’ve got to go rescue Izzi. She’s yelling that she’s falling in the potty…

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