"Mother of the Year" candidate...EPIC FAIL

As I may have mentioned before, I have a son, Griffin, who is 6. He is in Kindergarten. He does not do mornings. At all.

Typical early morning Griff-isms are:

• "you hate me! you never loved me! if you loved me, you wouldn't make me get up!!"
• "get out of here!" (usually accompanied by the stink eye)
• "I'm not going to school! I'm never going to school again!!"

In other words, we are used to this reception by our middle born. He isn't exactly  a morning kind of guy. I can accept that. I can even appreciate it. We channel our best inner Jim Bob and Michelle and speak gently, lovingly, and quietly to him.

• "Griffie, honey, let's get up. We have to leave in 15 minutes."
• "I know you're tired, baby. Just 4 more days till the weekend, sweetie."
• "C'mon honey, let me help you with your clothes."
• "Please, sweetie, let's get up. We really have to leave in 6 minutes."
• "Griffin, baby, if you don't GET UP right NOW, we're going to call the POLICE" -- well, you get the idea....We sort of move into our Jon and Kate channeling for this part....I'll spare you the ugly details.

So on Monday, the kids first day of school since Spring Break, it was obvious that we were fighting a battle of inhuman proportions as we tried to get the G-Man up for school. In short, he claimed he had a sore throat and his ears hurt.....but  he blamed that on Big Daddy and me because, in his words, "It was all that yelling at me. Your yelling made my throat and ears hurt. It's all your fault."

Ummm, ok, yeah, buddy. Whatevah. However, I cunningly mentioned, "if you stay home, you are going to go see Dr. Capone. I mean, really, if you're sick and all....."

I honestly thought that would clinch the deal. This kid is not into seeing pediatricians. Or dentists. Or pretty much anyone with a post graduate degree...

"OK."

Whaaaaat?

So off to school go me, Tucker, and Sissy. While I was gone, Big Daddy, in all his wisdom and fatherly, spiritual guru-ness, added in, for good measure, "You realize that you can lie to me and mommy, but God knows the truth."

Take that, well-known oft bender of truth 6 year old!

So off we go to see Dr. Capone's partner, Dr. Garaudy. She is a sweet little thing, mama of twins, and very gentle and kind with the kids.

For proof that there ain't nothin' wrong with this kid, take a peek at this:

Evidence Photo #1

So in comes Dr. Garaudy, who immediately declares, "Oh, Griffin, you look AWFUL, baby!" -- to which I can only agree, I mean, after all, look at that hair!! (Or was she referring to the chocolate milk stain on the Phineas & Ferb tee shirt?)

A quick exam has the kid cracking up because he is so ticklish that she can't even feel his lymph nodes without him falling into a ball of uncontrollable giggles. Really, the kid ain't sick.

"I"m gonna do a strep test. I probably don't have to because his throat is raw. His glands on the right side are really swollen. And his nose is a MESS. How long has he been sick?"

Ummm......since this morning?


Dr. G, Pediatric Examiner leaves the room with a fresh swab of Griffoni's throat mucus and Griff announces, "When Dr. Garaudy comes back in, I'm gonna freak her out by turning my eyelids inside out!!" hahahahahahaaha. More hysterical laughter. I'm beginning to wonder if another type of physician is needed. Say, perhaps a psychiatrist?

Evidence Photo #2

Fast forward 10 minutes of more cracking up as I read Anne Claire the book about Prudence and her potty (which really is hysterical, I mean I had to laugh when I read "Prudence had a head for thinking, eyes for seeing, ears for hearing, and a small hole in her bottom for making poo-poo.")

In comes Dr. G with the verdict.

"Strep throat. And I'm pretty sure he has a sinus infection."

4 prescriptions and a $20 co-pay later, we were heading out the door, but not before G hit up the receptionist for stickers.

Needless to say, the kid earned lunch out and a trip to Target for whatever toy he wanted. I had to assuage my massive case of parent guilt  do what I could for the little guy to make him feel better.

After all, that's what being a mama is all about...