On taking a two year old to the doctor

We don't have any family near us in Virginia, so we really don't have anyone to watch Cecilia for us. As a result, she schlepps pretty much wherever I do, and since i'm 35 weeks pregnant, she's gotten pretty accustomed to the OB's office. She gets excited when she recognizes the building, and immediately starts talking about how she gets a lollipop from the nurses basket when we're all done in the office. Good stuff.

Being a bright little girl, she's got the routine down, and orders me onto the scale, and then to sit and have my blood pressure taken. She informs me "squeeze a arm, mommy" and then makes the whooshwhooshwhoosh sound of an inflating cuff, complete with hand motion as if she herself is blowing it up.

From there she practically pushes me into the bathroom, because lately, the bathroom is her favorite place to play.

Anyone who has been pregnant can tell you that one of the absolute worst parts of any office visit is trying to pee in the damn cup with a huge belly in the way, without either missing the cup completely, peeing on ones hand, or spilling the cup. Messy business.

As I sat with my cup, the conversation went as such:

Cecilia: EW! EEEEEEWWWWWW! Mommy? Poopin' inna cup?
Saki: No, Celia, mommy is making peepee in the cup.
Cecilia, after considering this fact for a moment: EW! Mommy peepee inna cup? Ew, Mommy!
Saki: Ya, it is pretty ew.
Cecilia: I see? I see peepee inna cup? Mommy? Mommy? Celia sees peepee inna cup?

I sighed, and lowered the cup for her to see inside. It was met with another round of "ew" and the declaration that Mommy did, in fact, peepee in the cup. I grabbed the pen from the little shelf in the bathroom, and hastily scribbled my name on the cup.

"Mommy? Mommy drawin' onna cup? Mommy? I draw onna cup? Celia draws onna cup too?" Sigh. If you've ever gone anywhere with a two year old, you know that the volume level of their voice is grossly out of proportion with their small bodies. Two year olds are loud. And the more you'd like them to speak quietly, the louder they become, until practically yelling their inquiries.

I stuck the cup into the cubby that connects the bathroom to the nurses station and shut the little door. "Mommy? Where peepee cup go?" she asked, horrified that I actually did something with the cup. I told her that I put it in the door for the nurse to see. "Nurse sees peepee?" she squealed, rather loudly. "EWWWWWW" she finished.

I tried to wash my hands as quickly as possible, because by now, she was bordering on screaming "Mommy washa hands? Mommy washa peepee offa hands?"

Grabbing a papertowel, i opened the door to find the nurses and two of the doctors in tears on the other side of the door, laughing at our bathroom adventure. I smiled weakly at them, kind of over the whole ordeal. Just as I was about to take a step out, I heard a loud crash of the bathroom shelf falling over, and Cecilia bumped into my leg as she hightailed it down the hall, a tampon in each hand.

I can't believe I'm about to have another child. God help me. Please.