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I hop from the bed after noting the alarm clock reads 7:30. How did I manage to sleep through that? Barreling down the hall, I look into Myla’s room, confused when I discover she’s not there and her bed is made. I move next door to find Caleb’s looks the same. What alternate universe is this? And if the early morning child fairy really has visited, can she come back every day?
Peeking into Truitt’s room, unsure what or who I’ll find, I’m greeted with a toothy grin as he stands holding the railing of his crib, bouncing enthusiastically.
“Well, hi there. I wasn’t sure if you’d all given up on me and packed your bags.”
This statement is answered with a wet raspberry, his spit all over my cheek as he squeals in delight. “Well, thank you. I normally like to splash a little cold water on my face when I first wake up, but I guess today this’ll have to do.”
Quickly gathering my squirmy tot, we make our way downstairs, wary of what I’ll find.
“Morning, Mama!” Caleb shouts around a spoonful of Cheerios.
“Morning.” I give him a kiss on the head and turn to Myla, who’s dressed and ready for school. I know this is all her doing. “Thank you, Myla. I can’t believe I overslept. You saved me, sweet girl.”
Myla smiles briefly before grabbing the lunch she’s apparently packed for her brother. Running to his backpack, shezips it inside before waving frantically for him to come along as she rushes for the door.
Caleb picks up his bowl, slurps the remaining contents, some of which might’ve actually made it into his mouth, before springing from the stool like he’s at a trampoline park. “Bye, Mama!”
“Bye, baby. I’ll see you this afternoon. I love you.” Taking Truitt to the front porch, I watch as my two older children sprint to meet the bus that’s already pulling toward their stop.Boy, was that cutting it close.My daughter may not be maturing in her conversational skills, but the rest she’s got down pat. “Let’s get you fed and changed before we go to your appointment, daycare, and work.”
I manage to feed Tru and grab a quick shower while he’s in his bouncy seat. He was particularly hungry this morning, tearing through one bowl of oatmeal before bringing his fingertips together to sign “more.” Daycare taught him that. Wonder if they could also teach him “Mama?”Heck, I’d be fine if he signed it.
After donning my scrubs and freshly laundered white lab coat, I return to grab Truitt before heading to his orthopedic appointment. I’m happily only working a princess shift today. Six hours feels like a vacation compared to twelve. But I still need to get there on time if I want to avoid Roslyn’s wrath. It’s going to be cutting it close with Truitt’s doctor visit right before, but his orthopedist, daycare, and my job are all in the same part of the medical campus, so it’s doable.
I reach up and feel the gold chain hanging around my neck. “Please let the saints watch out for us. Oh, and please let Georgia be working today so she can help me find Luke’s phone number.”
Deciding to forego a travel cup of coffee, I head straight to the car and begin putting Truitt in his seat when I notice something brown on my lab coat. And my top. And my?—
“Nooooo!” My head falls, and I nearly cry.Why? Just why?
Examining my happy child, I find Truitt has poop from his diaper to his shoulder blades. He doesn’t appear to be ill. Unlike me. He’s smiling like it’s no big deal that he’s just taken a man-sized poop unable to be contained by a toddler-sized diaper.
Running back into the house, I quickly head for the kids’ bathroom. Placing him in the tub, I run the water, allowing it to warm up enough so I can give him a quick bath before placing clean clothes on him. There aren’t enough wipes on the planet to manage this amount of filth. The entire time I’m attempting to remove poop laden garments, he’s reaching for toys and shampoo.Ugh.“Tru, please don’t, son.” How did he get it on his hands?
I push through, trying not to throw up in my mouth as his grabby fingers come close to my face. “Focus, please,” I beg. “Mama’s got to get you to your appointment and on to work.”
After finally getting him clean, I run to place new clothes on him before putting him in the bouncy seat so I can disrobe and clean myself up before reattempting getting into the car. Thank God this is a short shift. I’m already exhausted, and we haven’t even left the house yet.
I send up a prayer of thanks for getting us in and out of his doctor’s appointment and on to daycare without any further delay. Pulling up, I don’t even bother to park in a space, just grab Tru and practically toss him to the girls before running back to the car so I can make it to work on time.
I manage to find a space not far from the ER doors, park, fling the door open, grab my work bag, and sprint for the doors.
Wiping the sweat from my brow, I swipe my badge through the time clock just as it strikes nine.Whew. There usuallyisn’t a morning huddle with the other oncoming nurses at this hour since most nurses arrive at either seven or eleven. Yet, I find Roslyn tapping her toe outside the nurses’ break room, nevertheless.
“You’re late.”
“The time clock said I made it.” I try to control my breathing, so she doesn’t realize how close it really was.
“If you’re not early, you’re late.”
Good grief. Now I’m wishing I’d just driven straight here and handed my poop covered child to her.
“You’ll be working in fast track. I suggest you get a move on.”Grrr. This woman. I bet if she ever smiled, her face would crack.
I head the short distance to the fast track area of our ER, where we manage patients who should be able to be seen quickly, most of the time anyway. I see Meghan, Jessica, and Kat. Kat is one of the physician assistants in our ER, and this job is much easier when she’s in your corner.
“Hi. How’d I manage to get to work a short shift with you three? Are we overstaffed or am I relieving one of you for lunch?”
“Overstaffed?” Jessica snorts. “What’s that?”
