Saturday, March 8, 2008

Bathing A Cat While Rollerskating

My child is addicted to sprinkles. I'm starting to wonder if they are more addictive than Feisty Irish Wench's child. (For those that aren't regular readers, Feisty is my best friend from junior high through high school that I lost touch with for over 10 years. We reconnected a little over a year ago when we found each other again through myspace.) Her daughter is a year older than mine, and my child is addicted to this child like a true junkie. She asks to go play with her constantly. She would rather go to her house than go to school. If we are out driving around town my kid is an instant GPS to her friend's location..." gotta go that way...her house is that way."

But I digress. Back to the sprinkles. Whenever ANYTHING goes wrong, gets hurt, or makes her upset and sad, she needs sprinkles. Fall off the couch? Trip over a toy? Mosquito bite? "Mommy, I need a cookie. That will make it better. With Sprinkles. Mommy, I need a cookie with cupcakes and sprinkles on top." She could be in total pain or panic mode and at the mere mention of sprinkles, she absolutely abandons any tantrum and is on full alert at any mention of a treat of ANY substance covered with sprinkles. She wants sprinkles on her yogurt, her peanut butter "smamich" and any thing else she could possibly get sprinkles on. Sprinkles make it all better. Well...and cookies. Can't forget the cookies. I foresee problems in the future because of her cookie and sprinkles habit. Even when she was in the hospital for adenoid surgery, she woke up from the anesthesia and was hollering into the hallway at anyone who would listen..."Docker, (doctor) I need a glass of cookies!!" I was dying. Laughing so hard it hurt to breathe. She cracks me up that way.

Another case in point. Last weekend we went to the hospital so that she could have a sleep study done. Everything went smoothly at first. She thought it was a really cool hotel room and was REALLY excited about the bed being all HERS. Mommy was sleeping in the chair, she had the whole big bed to herself. After watching a little TV, it was time to go to sleep. We needed her to fall asleep quickly so that we could hook up all the wires and gadgets after she was out. After she fell asleep, the poor unsuspecting nurse came in and started hooking my daughter up. She was really doing a great job too, until the kiddo stirred a little and opened her eyes. If the nurse had just backed off a little...waited just a few moments to let her fall back asleep. But alas, we had awoken the monster. My daughter bolted upright and started screaming like all get out. She started ripping off all the wires and was fighting and hollering for all she was worth. The nurse had to leave to go get her supervisor because she was so shocked and had no idea what to do. The supervisor and the nurse come back in and tell me that I need to calm her down, (yeah...right) and I need to RESTRAIN her so they can hook her back up. OhhhKaaaay. Gosh, folks, I hate to tell you this, but trying to bathe a cat while rollerskating isn't my forte. I mean, I can try to calm her down, but I am not strong enough or healthy enough to hold down a 50 lb. 4 year old while you try to attach electrodes all over her face and body. It just isn't going to happen. While we were all very frustrated at this point, we agreed that rescheduling and trying again another time might be the best option.

I started packing up our stuff, and my daughter is still screaming like we are trying to skin her, even though no one is near her. They give me some paperwork to sign and suddenly we hear, "You need to give a cookie with sprinkles and say you're sorry."

The nurse looks stunned. I am holding back giggles. My daughter looks straight at the nurse through teary red eyes and says to her, "You say you're sorry. Give me my cookie. Give me my sprinkles."

I of course apologized, and admonished my daughter for her rude behavior. I understand where she is coming from though. From her perspective, the nurse was trying to do "bad things" to her even though they needed to be done. From the nurse's perspective, she probably though I was insane and my daughter was a spoiled brat. Actually, going back to proof this, she does seem really spoiled. But in her defense (or ours for that matter), I have learned over time there are certain things that keep the autistic tendencies in check. (Hers, not mine.) That would be sprinkles. Who knows, they seem to be the cure for all things traumatic in a 4 year old's world. Makes you wonder what else they can cure.

1 comment:

tysgirl said...

Don't feel bad, my 30-something year old husband acted the same way when I took him for his sleep study. Not that was embarrassing!