You would think that I, having been Leo's mom for as long as I have, would no longer be capable of being surprised by my boy. But oh, he still shocks me, so often in good and wonderful ways. And I should be ashamed of myself for forgetting this fact.
It might sound strange and unbelievable, but the most relaxing part of today, of the week so far, was the last-minute, late afternoon trip to the pediatrician's office that Leo and I took together.
It all started last night when I sat nursing Harry at Who Knows What Hour and listened to the gravelly wheezes of Lucy in her crib as she slept. Or tried to. Harry didn't sound much better. Their little coughs and rasps have been going on at least a week now and I knew it was time to get them to the doctor. Leo, at seven and a half seems so much sturdier, so I wasn't too worried about his cough. But when the pediatrician pronounced pneumonitis in the twins this morning, I knew it was time to get Leo into the doctor.
Today was one long stream of camp drop-offs and pick-ups and trying to get the babies to sleep and eat "solid" food in between and taking them to the pediatrician. Once I realized Leo should be seen by the doctor too, I told myself that if I had to take all four kids to the doctor by myself at the end of the day (aka Witching Hour) that I might as well buy myself a one-way ticket to Crazy Town while I was at it. So I texted our babysitter. Thank the Lord she was available.
Leo was NOT happy that he didn't get to stay with our beloved babysitter but Ellie and the babies did. He was even less celebratory when we pulled into the parking lot of our pediatrician. The poor guy knew. But we rallied. He found his seat in the waiting room and read books. To himself. By himself. Who is this big kid I have, suddenly, who is too cool to be read to?
In the exam room (where we had a lot of quality time, a good hour while we waited to be seen by the doctor), we joked and chatted and Leo drew pictures. He told me about his day at camp, which included a visit to a local arcade/amusement park where he rode a "big slide" and bumper cars. I'd would have paid money to see that. As much as I think siblings are great, Leo (like most kids I'm sure) is just a different creature when he's just one on one. When I can pour all my attention on him, he's just a sweet little gentleman.
But I'm burying the lead, which is that not only did Leo allow the doctor to listen to his heart and lungs without protest, but he also stood stonily still as the doctor examined his throat and, drum roll please, HIS EARS. Longtime readers will not the enormity of this news. When our doctor suggested he'd like Leo to use an inhaler I squirmed. That didn't sound like something he'd go for. But shame on me, because when the doctor pulled out the inhaler and explained it was something that "pilots use" (it looks a little like the mask you'd use on an airplane in the event that oxygen becomes an "issue"), Leo was all for it and huffed and puffed into that little inhaler like he was born to do it.
Our next stop was the local Mom & Pop pharmacy to fill all three prescriptions (yes, three out of four of the kids are on antibiotics. Oh, the awesomeness). Leo befriended the pharmacy manager. Within a few minutes of our arrival, he had Leo sweeping and straightening shelves. Also there were some high-fives and fist bumping.
When it was time to go, the pharmacy manager walked us out to the car into the cold night. I thanked him and he told me "he had fun too" and that we made his day.
You can't really ask for more than that, can you?
Up next: Conquering the Great Haircut Terrors.
