Monday, December 1, 2008

Pinned in...

Today, Ada and I ventured out in the snow to see her Doctoress. Ada has had a cold for about a week and a half with a hefty cough that just won't leave. With the holidays behind us and all of our tricks making little difference to hurry this cold on it's way, it was time to visit the Doctoress and make sure this cootie is shown the door.

We set aside an hour to get ready this morning, and we could have easily used two. That's how it is now that I have a baby (soon to be toddler). I left ample time, or so I thought, to clean the snow off the car as we got about 2 inches overnight. Unfortunately, as I was putting Ada's socks and shoes on her squirmy little feet, a waft of something not-so-pleasant hit me and we were delayed a few minutes to re-change her diaper, that was a whole 5 minutes old, and dispose of the toxic waste in the back garbage. I took about 20 seconds to debate wearing tennis shoes or golashes - some call them wellies - and chose the golashes. After all, why bother trying to be fashionable when taking a sick kid to the Doctoress when you don't have time to put makeup on, it's snowed recently and is sure to be slushy, and you aren't going to see anyone you know?

I got Ada ready and realized... she needs a hat, and I need to grab the diaper bag. Oh, and I need my phone. Ooooh, and I should grab her some food and make her a bottle quick before we go. Tick, tock. Tick tock. Yeah, thank goodness I padded my schedule with some extra time for all this last minute stuff.

We load up, or I should say, I grab Ada, the diaper bag, the shoulder bag serving as my purse these days, my hat, gloves, a scarf, my jacket, double check I have keys, hoist the baby onto my hip and we're out the front door, first and second vestibule doors and into the fresh, cold, winter air. The car is right out front and I locate my keys, unlock the door and heave Ada inside as I step into the puddle next to the curb. Thank God I was wearing my wellies! I am now standing in 6 inches of brown, cold, slush... but my feet are dry. I lock Ada down into her car seat and go to grab my gloves when they get hooked on my sunglasses and, of course, I fling them into the brown slush below. At least they are plastic and will wash easily. Tragedy narrowly avoided.

Ada cries as I dance around the car ridding it of snow. I get in. She starts really crying. I get out. I give her a bottle of milk. I get back in and pull out. Our appointment is at 11:45 and it's 11: 35. It's a ten to fifteen minute drive so we are cutting it close. We get 5 blocks away and she starts screaming. She's dropped the bottle onto the seat beside her. I get to a red stop light. I get out. I give her the bottle and prop it up better this time. I get in. We make it another 5 blocks and she drops it again but this time she isn't hysterical. 5 more blocks and we've arrived at our destination. We do the whole Doctoress visit. Ada gets a flu shot. Doctoress says she's fine, might have an infection and we can try amoxicillian in a few days if it doesn't clear up on it's own. I schedule my flu shot for later this week, and Ada's 1 year vaccine appointment and we're off. We bundle back up, I gather all of our stuff and "bye bye", we head out to the car.

Now on to our errand of the day. We're stopping by The Right Start to pick up a second car seat so that we can swap it between Grandparent's cars and carry my niece if ever we need to. It's on sale and the sale ends today, of course. So we drive up to the store and there is prime parking available, but it's squished in between two cars and it's a tight fit. So what. I'm going to squeeze into it and show that green jeep who's boss. I mean really. Who parks like that? So we squeeze in. We shimmy out on the driver's side as I've left more room for me to get out than for them to get in on the right side. Serves them right.

Once in the store, we learn that they only have the pink one in stock. Is that okay? "Sure. That's what we wanted in the first place but it wasn't in stock." I call Rick to confirm and all is well. (If you've read my other blogs you may remember a bit of drama we had about not being able to get the pink one. Well, we now have a pink one.)

After waiting in line -- this place was really busy for 2 pm on a Monday -- the nice saleswoman carried it to my car. The green jeep had moved so it was easy to get it past the car and into the trunk. She returned to the store and left me to put Ada into her car seat. With the Jeep gone, it was easier for me to load Ada into the car on the passenger side. I followed her into the back seat and shut the door to keep out the cold. As I'm strapping Ada in, a grey mini van pulls next to us. The driver realizes she's too close and can't get out, but like me, she feels this is too good of a spot to pass up. So she realigns the van a few inches and slips out of the van and into the store. Now that Ada's secured, it's my turn to slip out. But I can't. It's too tight.

Serves me right. Karma always comes back to bite you in the butt as I always say. And boy did it ever bite me. Sitting in the back seat with my golashes on, I now have to throw my leg over Ada, in the car seat, and shimmy to the driver’s side of the back seat so that I can open the driver’s side door and eventually get behind the wheel, all while avoiding crushing Ada’s little body in her car seat as she looks at me thinking, “What the hell are you doing mom?”

As I’m doing this shimmy thing in the back seat, I’m also on the phone with Rick discussing the purchase, the Doctoress visit and the irony of the green jeep turning into the grey van and how I am now stuck. I’m straddling Ada and the car seat while on the phone when, “Oh shit. Ow. OW. OWWW. That hurts. Rick hold on.” “Are you okay Amanda?” he asks as I’m holding the phone at arms length trying to stretch out a cramp under my floating rib. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry about that. I got a cramp while suspended over Ada. Karma always gets even.” We wrap up our conversation and Ada and I head home.

Of course, we got an okay parking spot. Nothing fabulous but at least it’s on our street. I figure it is residual karma backlash and hope that doing a few good deeds early in the day tomorrow will set things back to the good side of things.

Moral of the story: If it’s crummy outside, wear your wellies. If a space is too tight, no matter how close it is to the door, let it go. You could probably use the exercise and it’s better than a cramp under your rib and a dent in your door.

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