Another Fine Morning With Brice

Ahhhh, yes. This morning I woke up early only to discover that I had to be at our much dreaded WIC appointment at 10:00. As many of you know, I despise WIC appointments with a passion. I don't know if I've ever been to a place where I have felt more disrespected, frowned-upon, or judged than the WIC office. And our location is actually fairly decent as WIC offices go! Normally, I need to mentally prepare myself several days in advance for the appointment but in all the rush of the weekend, this appointment snuck up on me. Fortunately, this particular morning's appointment was only for myself and Sydney so I knew it would at least be relatively short.
I started getting babies ready at 7:30 so we could leave by 9:15. As I was loading carseats, Brice came flying out and of course Raja (our dog) came flying out right behind him. Now, if you know Raja, you know that when she gets out...she doesn't come back. You have to play her game which consists of getting in the car, with the passenger side door open. You have to drive slowly down the street calling her in a nice voice into the car. Maybe then...just maybe, she'll decide to jump in. Then, you have to proceed around the block a couple of times so she'll think she's getting a ride (otherwise, she'd quickly learn not to jump in with you). Only then, may you take her back to the house. Only this morning, I didn't have time for Raja's game. I called Albert and explained that she was on the loose. He said "Just leave her. Maybe when you get home, she'll be roadkill." Then he said seriously, that she'd probably be back in the yard by the time I got home.
So, off to WIC. It takes forever to unload the stroller and load all the babies. Another enternity to pass the zillions of people who make the usual irritating comments such as "you've got your hands full" or "Oh my God look at all those babies"or "I don't know how you do it." I have become very grateful to the folks that just stare and say nothing. Within seconds of entering the door, Brice was at his usual behavior. He ran around, he teased the twins, he knocked stuff over. He refused to come when I called him. When it was our "turn" to have our irritating little appointment with the WIC nurse (who never fails to be a complete moron in the area of raising babies) Brice decides to run out the door 48943 times. After hauling him back inside each time, always with a new threat of what would happen if he didn't sit in the chair beside me (I never did hit on something he actually took seriously enough to listen) the "nurse" would start again with her conversation. I use the term "nurse" very loosly here. I'm not sure what her exact credentials are but I wonder.
While I was listening to the nurse continue of about how Sydney should not be left lying on a changing table or a couch (where she is at this moment, lying by herself and taking a nap) and how she should be attending all of her pediatric checkups, Brice decides to drop himself onto the floor and swim across it. I realize it must sound like I'm doing nothing here, but please remember I have three other babies I'm juggling at the same time. As Brice wallows in the dirty WIC floor and while I try to pursuade him to get up, he begans eating little things he finds there...crumbs of food, peices of paper, and best of all the caps to syringes. As I fish each thing out of his mouth, carefully trying to balance Syd in my opposite arm, the WIC nurse continues to tell me about how Sydney should only be eating stage 1 foods at this time. It is at this point of the appointment that she informs me she'll be checking my iron level. I tell her not to bother because I already know its low due to the fact.....that I am pregnant. The nurse stops and looks at me in utter disbelief. Brice has now gotten up from the floor and is going down the row of office drawers pulling each one open and digging through their compartments. The nurse comments that she supposes we'll have to make a new appointment for next month for me, since I'm once again pregnant. She then asks me who my primary care provider is. I tell her I don't know. She asks me why I don't know. I tell her because I usually just see my OB's or Midwife. She asks me who do I see when I'm not pregnant. I look at her with a straight face and tell her that I'm always pregnant. I'm only ever not pregnant for three or four months at a time. She hands me my WIC book and says I can go now and that we'll skip the iron test! Only now, Brice refuses to come with me. I stand up gather myself, my diaper bag and the other babies (the twins are in the twin stroller and I sit Sydney on top of the handlebar while I push it.) Brice is still not comming so I say out loud in front of the horrified nurse "I'm leaving now Brice. I'm going to the Van. I hope to see you there." I then walk out without so much as a second glance behind me. Sure enough, by the time I stuggle to open the door and push the stoller through it (while 534 onlookers just sit there and stare) Brice is beside me again.