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July 20, 2012

It Wouldn't Be a Birthday without Medical Intervention

Yesterday was Jonathan's 29th birthday. And because I was channeling Martha Stewart by jumping from homemade cake frosting to ice cream from scratch, I had planned a simple blog post for the day- a cute picture of Jonathan and the kids that I had snapped recently, along with some pretty thick gushing about how great the guy is and how lucky we are to have him as a husband and father.

But then life happened. Again.

Last year on Jonathan's birthday, we had The Acetone Incident of 2011 where Nathaniel decided to throw/drink three-quarters of a bottle of nail polish remover. Sure, the bottle had been safely out of reach in the middle of the kitchen table, but when your kid has dreams of climbing Everest, the kitchen table is merely a warm-up exercise.

So in a fabulous tribute to the Poison Control calls and ruined kitchen tables of last year, it should really come as no surprise when there were issues once again on July 19th. It all started off with a toddler complaining in the bathroom. At first, I brushed it off because what toddler likes to stop playing to use the potty? Unless you're bribing your kid with the world's largest M&M, there isn't a chance of a toddler being excited to put playtime on hold to visit the potty. And since our bribery is now exclusively reserved for pooping on the porcelain throne instead of all over our Lightening McQueen undies, well there you have it. Case closed.

But then he started fussing, complaining, and crying about how his pee-pee hurt.

In as much as I really didn't have my day planned out with any extra time, I thought the kid was making a pretty convincing case. On the off-chance that he wasn't manipulating for another minute with his Legos, I put a call into the doctor to ask if we could be seen the next day. But a return call from clinic nurse line confirmed my fears- they were sending us to Urgent Care and he needed to be seen RIGHT THEN AND THERE.

So I wiped the frosting off of my hands and loaded the toddler into our car as soon as the birthday boy got home from work to watch Evelyn. I was all, Happy birthday! I'm taking the toddler to Urgent Care and perfect timing! You get to watch the teething baby! Yes, happy birthday to YOU!

Once Nathaniel and I made our entrance to Urgent Care, they broke the news to me that the doctor would want a urine sample. The best part of that news was the fact that they managed to deliver it with a straight face. They weren't kidding; they wanted my two-year-old to pee in a cup. This was my reaction:


Oh, we tried. Make no mistake about it, we tried hard. I put him on the potty again and again. We tried a regular potty, a baby potty, sitting, standing, you name it. But alas, the gates were closed, even though the little guy hadn't peed since his nap time.

So under threat of having my kid catheterized, I started pumping him full of water like my life depended on it. We were sitting in an exam room together with our little shot glasses of water, tossing them back as fast as we could. Forty-minutes into our potty attempts, the nurses took pity on us and started handing out juice like it was going out of style.

Thanks to all the fluids, I finally had to go to the bathroom so I dragged the toddler and our little specimen cup along with me to the toilet. I made a big deal out of how flipping awesome it was to pee. And look! I was peeing on the big boy potty! I even sang our potty song (which I'm sure the nurses were enjoying just outside of the door). And then I put Nathaniel on the potty one more time.

Suffice it to say that after a full hour of trying, the floodgates opened up and we got our sample. The toddler got a Clifford sticker. And I was awarded with the inner satisfaction of knowing that we wouldn't be sitting in an exam room all night long.

After three hours of sitting in Urgent Care, the doctor concluded that Nathaniel had some irritation that was bothering him and that he would live to pee another day. We headed home with just enough time to have a family dinner, eat first (and second) helpings of cake, and open presents. All in all, it was a birthday to remember.

And next year? Well, we'll just have a room reserved at the hospital for Nathaniel. Who knows what will happen next time July 19th rolls around!

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