No Animals Were Hurt in the Making of This Post

I wish I were making this up. Our three year old, Josh, needs to have hernia surgery. We met with the pediatric surgeon and scheduled the procedure for next week. Naturally, I'm nervous about Josh being under anesthetic and operated upon, so I've been a little more tense than usual, which is to say I am clinging to my sanity by the tips of my imperfectly-manicured nails. This build of anxiety may account for some of the following:

I stumble in the door after work lugging my infant in his very, very, very heavy car carrier and dragging my cranky three year old behind me, momentarily relieved to have made it through another day of working motherhood. Our golden retriever lunges at me in a fit of ecstatic joy, concentrating all of the 86 lbs of muscled canine behind his enormous paws on my diaphragm, effectively giving me the Heimlich Maneuver despite the fact that I am not choking and am carrying an infant. Stumbling and trying to regain my breath, I catch the heel of my shoe (3 inch heels-- they make my legs look longer which, I think, may distract on-lookers from my extra postpartum pounds, but I'm not sure....) on the throw rug and my hip collides painfully with the corner of the dining room table. I bend over, clutching my side and hissing obscenities under my breath, while our dog gives me a sticky lick on the cheek and drools on my dry clean only pant leg. Meanwhile, the baby drops his pacifier, which the dog immediately "retrieves" from the floor and scampers off into the family room with his new plaything as the baby howls. In the mean time, the three year old whines that he needs his coat off because his "feet are sweaty" while I try to wrestle the binky out of the dog's mouth, during which process I get golden-hued dog fur all over my black wool coat. Naturally, in the midst of this chaos the phone rings. It is the surgical center calling to gather some information about Josh's upcoming surgery. The conversation goes like this:

Nurse: Hello, this is Very Big Suburban Hospital calling to gather some information about Josh's surgery. Is this a good time?

Me: [dog barking and baby screaming in background] Um...sure. I guess so. (To dog) Drop it! If you don't drop it, I will get the rolled up paper! You want the rolled up paper??

Nurse: Are you sure this is a good time?

Me: Yes. It's fine. I've been waiting for your call. I wanted to know what can we do to make this procedure as easy as possible on Josh.

Nurse: Does he have a favorite toy you can bring with you to the hospital?

Me: Yes.

Nurse: Bring it along for comfort. That helps to calm our youngest patients down a little. Also, it's important that you bring loose, comfortable clothing for Josh to wear post-op. I need to fill in some forms here for the anesthesiologist. Has Joshua been ill recently?

Me: (loudly hissed to dog) If you don't drop that pacifier out of your mouth, I swear I will apply the rolled up paper to your backside!! (to nurse) What was that ? Oh, uh...no. No, he hasn't been ill in a few weeks.

Nurse: Has Joshua had any falls in the last six months?

Me: No--

[Loud bang in background followed by a three year old screaming and crying, "My nose! My nose!" This is followed by more dog barking and baby howling.]

Me: Um...you better cross out that last answer. How hard of a fall are we talking about?

[Another loud bang. Screams of "My knees! My knees!]

Nurse: Um...is he okay?

Me: Yes. He's fine. This happens all the time. What were you saying?

Nurse: Has he had any f--

[Another loud bang. Screams of "My hand!"]

Me: (to Josh) Well, if you'd quit trying to walk to the toilet with your pants around your ankles, you wouldn't keep falling on the floor! (to dog) And YOU! Drop that binky or I will shave you bald!! (to nurse) You were saying?

Nurse: (pause) Never mind. I think I know the answer....