Rubber Rooms and Hill Fairies

There are few things I dislike more than pizza which puts me somewhere in between a person with no soul and a person with no taste. Or maybe both. I'm eating it now and it actually tastes good, which proves what kind of day I've had; It may or may not be the first thing I've eaten all day. (and should also reassure anyone that I can and will eat pizza happily if you serve it to me at your house).

Sometimes I'm convinced I was born with the missing genetics to be a mom. You know how they tell you your own baby's wails in the middle of the night will wake you up? Wrong. As evidenced by my parents once coming into Jamie's room in the wee hours of the morning to find his newborn self screaming bloody murder while Jim and I were passed out on the floor. Sleep deprivation does have its limits.
The pediatrician happens to agree I'm a horrible mother. They called today at 4pm "Mrs Ramsey, were you going to bring Charles in for his TB check?" Crap. They are seriously the only practitioner/therapist/doctor we have or ever have had that didn't give reminder calls (our dentist will even text you a reminder). I survive on reminder calls. I know I shouldn't, but the truth of the matter is I can hardly remember to take eat breakfast most days let alone remember that Charlie's vaccines on Tues included a TB shot that needed to be checked in 2-3 days. The stone-cold lady at the front desk had no mercy on me, and I am dutifully repentant.

I was already having a bad day, but by the time I spent over an hour in rush hour traffic for a ten second confirmation my son doesn't have tuberculosis, I literally got home and wanted to scream into a pillow...until I heard Jamie screaming outside. I rushed to see what the problem was, only to find it was a happy conversation between him and "my friend in the hill", because yes Jamie discovered his echo today.

We laid down on a rock and yelled at the echoes till Jim got home with beer and pizza. Good man.