I have had it up to here (picture me putting my hand very near the top of my head) with doctors' offices. I do not understand why it is so difficult to schedule an appointment. Let's just say that through fault of mine, I needed to reschedule my 10-week ob appointment. I told them my schedule was completely open the entire week except for the time of my apoointment, lucky right? Anyway, they schedule me in to something an entire week different. And later. So, now my 10-week ob appointment is my 11-week ob appointment. That means I can go for the UltraScreen just as soon as I get the slip for it. Whoopee.
Also, a month ago, I tried to schedule Chuckles with his pediatrician. I called the appointments area and asked for an appointment a few weeks' away and I wanted last appt of the day. She offered 10 am. She said it was first available. I said I did not want first available, I wanted late afternoon. Then I asked what time the last appointment was, and she could not answer. She just said it would be hard to do that. She was going to have to look at every day and tell me what appointments were open, so I told her to start. She kept offering 10:15, 1:30, noon, 11 am appointments and I kept reiterating my preference for late afternoon, you know like 4, 4:15, 4:30, or something. She went through every single day for a week and never once offered anything as late as even 4:00. Eventually, I sighed a heavy sigh and took a 2:45 appointment. Is it really that hard to understand that I WORK during the day and would like a little evening appointment so I do not have to take a vacation day or spend 1.5 hours in the car driving to and from the doctor for a mid-day appointment, nevermind the psychological toll leaving day care, going to the doctor, and then coming back would have on my child. Two drop offs in one day is more than I can handle.
Speaking of handling the drop off. I have been having rough mornings. They go something like this:
Me: It's time to get dressed.
Chuckles: I can do it myself.
Me: OK, do it.
Ch: I can do it.
Me: OK, then do it.
Ch: I do it (while not actually doing it).
Me: OK, let's start with your underpants (me taking undies out of the drawer).
Ch: No, I do it. (slamming drawer shut without getting underwear out.)
Me: OK, if you can do it, then do it. You have three seconds to pick out your underwear before I do it for you. One, two,
Ch: No, I do it.
Me: Do it! Three.
Ch: Nononononono, I do it.
Me (getting underwear out of the drawer): Put these on NOW.
Ch: I do it.
Me (attempting to put his underwear on him while fending off the feets of fury that are kicking me): Ok, let's get these underwear on (in artifically chipper voice).
Repeat for pants, socks, shirt, coat, shoes, and so on.
I was late to work on Monday after this. This morning I pitched him unceremoniously from the car at day care and told him I had to go because I was late.
I tried laying the clothes out so there would be no picking, but it does not help. Yesterday, he started crying because I "screamed" at him. Not true, although the voice was raised. Where am I going wrong? I have no idea what to do. I tried turning it into a game, a race, putting his undies on his head and asking him whether he could do better, but still, I wind up in tears in the car because I am frustrated, I raised my voice and now my child is crying because I "screamed". Just put your damn pants on already so we can go! Send help.