When frustration builds...

I never like how I feel when frustration is boiling up inside. I have this acute awareness of myself when I am in a bad mood. Instead of just grumbling and moping and being generally unpleasant and not realizing it, it's like a part of myself is floating above me, watching me sulk in my grumpiness. So I can never even enjoy a bad mood, because I'm always aware of what a grinch I'm being to those around me, and feel guilty about my attitude.

Yesterday I had one of those afternoons. I got a call from the Internists' office requesting more tests (blood work). She asked me to swing by to pick up the requisition form, and then I could get the blood work done in the lab in their building. Perfect. I told her that I pick up Colin just before 3pm, and then I would be by.

Well, she neglected to remind me on the phone that their lab closes at 3pm. So after bundling the kids in the car and driving over, we arrived at 3:05 pm, and the lab was already closed. I knocked on the door hoping for a sympathetic lab technician who might take pity on a pregnant woman with two small kids in tow - no such luck.

The other lab in town is on the way home, so although I wasn't looking forward to bundling children in and out of the car again, I really just wanted to get the tests done. So we drove to the other lab. Out we all get, up to the door, only to find out that lab had been moved. Frustration mounting. Bundle the kids back into the car, drive to the new location.

Get the kids out. Walk up to the lab. Find another sign: lab has moved again. Now you can see the smoke pouring out of my ears. I'm exhausted from lifting the boys in and out of the car. They are peppering me with questions about why the lab was closed or why it was moved, or why it was moved again. This time, the lab was moved across the mall parking lot, and as I don't feel like doing the whole carseat buckling again, I scoop Caleb up in my arms, hold Colin close, and dart across the roads and parking lots to the lab location. I know that if this last step falls through, I think I will simply collapse on the spot in frustration.

As I approach the lab, there is a sign on the door. It's the lab hours. I grumble aloud that it had better be open. Wonder of wonders...it is. And there is no one waiting there, which means we can go right in. Thankfully, the boys behave and stand obediently against the wall why I have my blood drawn. The kind nurse offers them stickers, which makes their whole afternoon adventure worthwhile. I'm just glad to have the lab work completed. The Internist already scheduled a follow-up appointment next week, which worried me a little. Usually they say "we'll call you if we find something wrong." To pre-schedule an appointment likely means they either expect to find something wrong, or, if they don't, know already they will need to do more tests.

Unfortunately, the whole afternoon put me in a funk. My stomach was already not cooperating, I had had two seperate medical appointments earlier in the day, I hadn't slept or napped well, and even though it was Monday (cleaning day), I was too exhausted to do any of it, which means it will likely go another week before I try again. The only load of laundry I did was towels, the easiest but also least important load to do.

Have I mentioned lately that I'm ready for this baby to come...any time now...really...I'm ready...let's just do this...please...