Rules 17: Expect Misunderstandings

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You CANNOT Be Serious Elizabeth Lyons

This is part of an ongoing series chronicling my attempts to regain a bit of my sense of self, and my sanity, by implementing Elizabeth Lyons’ 32 Rules that Sustain a (Mostly) Balanced Mom. Subscribe to my RSS feed to follow my experiment, and check out the rest of the posts in the series!

We had quite the experience on Friday. Misunderstandings are commonplace around here with two three year olds and one not quite two year old. There’s things they repeat even though they really don’t know what they’re saying, like, “Mommy, you made me mad! That’s dangerous!”

Although I have to agree, making a three year old mad can be quite dangerous.

Then there’s lovely conversations like this:

Me: “Wow! Look at all the fog outside!”

Claire: “Where’s a frog?!?!?!”

Me: “No, not frog, FOG. It’s foggy outside. Like clouds that came down from the sky.” {That’s as scientific as I get, people.}

Rachel: “Look at all those frogs!”

Me: “FOG. Fog. It’s fo–”

Zoe: “Fog!” {Don’t get excited…she’s really saying frog too.}



But Friday’s experience took the cake. It was a normal day in the Torres house, full of twin arguments, a crying toddler, and activities that didn’t last more than 5 minutes at a time before someone lost interest or lost their temper.

But then all of the sudden I found a sad, crying Rachel in her room. Something had upset her earlier, and I assumed she was just having a hard time cheering up.

Picking her up and carrying her to the couch, my attempts to console her and find out what was wrong were just met with more crying. This time she was complaining that her butt hurt and that she needed cream. No rashes, nothing that I could see that would bother her, and as the minutes ticked by, she got more and more agitated and inconsolable. She made reference to falling and hitting her butt on the door, but honestly I couldn’t even see the physics in that.

She couldn’t sit, wouldn’t lay down, and insisted that I carry her 37 pound body around, then complained that my arms supporting her bottom hurt too. By the time Christian texted to see how we were doing, I was practically in a panic not knowing what was wrong with her or what to do. Was she constipated? Did she really fall and hurt herself? Did she have some kind of infection? It was all so sudden.

Luckily Christian was able to come home. The complaints of butt pain had now turned into complaints of vaginal pain, which just freaked me out more. I rushed her over to the doctor, still in her footie pajamas and for some reason sans panties, so they could squeeze us in.

And she cried. And cried. Calmness during the car ride, but back into near hysterics at the doctor’s. Complaining of more pain. Begging to go home. Asking to go bed, which she hasn’t done in months. Saying she was so sleepy. The receptionist took us back to an empty exam room to see if she wanted to lay down while we waited. I’m guessing someone wailing “It huuuuuuuurrrrrrrtssssssss!” in the background might be bad for new patient morale, you know?

As she writhed in pain, I answered a ton of questions that I can’t even remember. The nurse asked me to try to get her to go pee and get a sample if I could, and all I could think was, “Yeah right, lady. This girl loves her little potty seat, and in this state? It would be a miracle if she went with less than ten of us pinning her down.”

But sit she did, albeit with lots of screaming and crying and holding onto my hand for dear life while my other hand held a cup underneath her. Sure enough, she had to go, and go she did. All over my hand.

And before I even got her off the toilet? It was like to fog {not frog} lifted, and my Rachel came back out.

“Mommy! The pee pee wake up!”

“Mommy! You got a cup!”

“Flush it, Mommy! Iss your turn!”

Holy hysterical toddler, Batman do NOT tell me that going potty solved the “excruciating pain” issue. I looked at her incredulously. “Rachel, do you feel better now?”

“Yeah! I feel much better!”

“Does it still hurt?”

“No! It doesn’t hurt! I fine! Less go get a LADYPOP!!!!!”

“You have GOT to be kidding me…”  Before I even pulled her jammies back on and stepped out of the bathroom I could feel the embarrassment creeping up on my face.

She walked back to the exam room, helping herself to said LADYPOP!!! on the way. The doctor came in and examined her, but of course found nothing but a chipper, happy three year old. For the love of God, with all the screaming and crying that she had just put us through, that doctor needed to pull some kind of rare, unusual butt/vag disease out of her ass that miraculously disappears upon peeing. Just so I wouldn’t feel like such a dumbass.

latorres twitter pediatrician

We asked her to point to where it hurt, and she gestured to her vagina, but continued to exclaim, “It doesn’t hurt anymore! I fine! I’m all better! Touch it, Mommy!” Um, no thanks.

Wouldn’t you think that if she had to go that bad that she would pee her pants? I mean, she’s known to hold it, but not to the point of pure agony.

She still insisted that she hit her butt on the door, but however she did it and whether or not that’s what caused all this drama remains a mystery.

I’m just glad that everyone else in that damn office could attest to her pre-pee hysterics. Oh, and I’m glad she’s okay too. And I’ll be really glad if our doctor just writes this one off as one of those crazy visits she decides not to charge for.

They do that, right?

I know you have some gem of a misunderstanding! Tell me!


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  1. This should give you a climpse into how stubborn your children are going to be.
    Holding her pee until it caused unbearable pain.
    THAT is dedication!

    1. I do like it. She really makes me feel like my house is not SO much out of control 🙂 And she has a great sense of humor.

  2. Wow, such drama at 3 1/2. Glad it had a happy ending with the magical LADYPOPs. All things considered I have never had anything remotely like this happen to me. Did they find anything in the urine analysis? I am amazed that her little 3 1/2 year old bladder could hold it with such pain. It is so funny, but kind of suspicious. Potty training is just crazy sometimes, hang in there.

    1. Nope, the pee came back clear. The doc and I were both amazed that she held it so long that she didn’t wet her pants. There’s no telling. She may have just gotten all worked up and convinced herself she was in pain. But she was very convincing to the rest of us too!

  3. I totally remember this from Twitter. Not to worry, as a nurse, I can attest that you are not the only mother who has brought a hysterical NON sick child in for treatment. Also as a mother…same goes. It’s almost as if they were born to make us look like fools.

    1. No kidding. This is why I always hesitate to take them. If I “wait and see,” then I take them, find out they have the flu, and it’s too late for the tamiflu to e effective. I take them for something I think is real, it’s nothing.

  4. I laughed my rear off on Twitter when you posted that. I immediately felt bad for doing so.

    This is one of those stories to save for when she’s older for sure.

    1. Definitely. I pray that yours never gives you any crazy penis pain complaints that turn out to mean he stubbed his toe!

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