29 October 2009

Waiting...

So, I'm waiting for an appointment with all the kids except Patrick. This is one of those semi-governmental places that I wish I didn't have to visit... but nearly free is nearly free, and you know how that goes. I've discovered there are actually some good things about these places. A few, at least.

First off, the "clients" there are rarely snotty to you. I know, I know, when I hear the word "client," I think about prostitution just like you do. That, or some awful lawyer defending a criminal... but the lawyer can't say "criminal" about the guy he's defending... so he calls him a "client." I think it's a code word or something. But that's what they call you when you're a patient at these places. Somehow when you are a client instead of a patient, that lends class and dignity and stuff. Empowers you, even. All that without their having to spend any money or be nice or anything!

Maybe someday soon, teens will use the word "client" to insult one another. "Aw, Davey, you're acting like such a CLIENT!" Well... maybe.

No matter... my point being that by and large, most people in the waiting room don't bat an eyelid about your kid's mismatched clothes or give that "I'm more important than everyone in the waiting room! Look at me use my cell phone! See my pretty rings and purse!" posture. They mind their business and we mind ours. Sort of. Did I mention that I have two toddlers? A few people were a little inconvenienced, but I was able to delegate some responsibility so that the effects were minimized. :]

Another good thing? There is a preschool next door that brought the children in for trick or treating. About 13 kids in the class, all dressed up as little monsters and faeries and stuff. Emperor thought that was great! They have a bigger family than ours!

"You must have adopted that lil girl though," he tells the teacher about the Hispanic child. He didn't mean it in a mean way, but I thought of a post I read this morning on socialization and learning about differences while I was apologizing and ushering him away from the group. (Somehow everyone else is able to socialize their kids in such a way that odd remarks like that disappear by this age... but at least we've gotten past the "LOOK! A BLACK PERSON IS OVER THERE!" statements.)

I just told him that if it is a big family, they had to have adopted several of the children because most people can't really have more than twins or triplets all at one time... and... see how all the children are about the same age?

"Oh, yeahhh..." And it's a preschool, anyway, kid. Just so you know. "It IS?? Where is Miss Bev??" Well... it's not YOUR old preschool... it's just a preschool... (I feel some days I explain one set of questions, just to have five more pop up.)

That's one rockin' preschool party, going to the nearly-free clinic and getting some candy bars in the waiting room while everyone coughs nearby. Woodjie ran to join the other little kids because *of course* bunches of kids together means a party! Food! Treats!! Rose ran up in there as well.

The treat-passers were merciful and gave us some snacks for the kids, but they had to dig around a fair while to find something for Woodjie. I'm looking ahead to Christmas parties and all sorts of other things in the school future for this kid and it looks pretty bleak unless I bring the treats myself.

In the end, the kid got the nurse's granola bar. She had been saving it for a snack, but she felt sorry for the poor guy. ALL the candy they were providing as treats had milk in it except for the Starburst-type things that would be a choking hazard. Bummer, Mom refuses to risk death to keep the peace. Mom sure appreciated the granola bar. God bless that nurse.

I think these nearly-free places don't have very good "client" relations people and receptionists, though. The receptionist I booked the appointment with warned me to take only the child with the appointment! They don't have room for all the children in the waiting room!

They are such stinkin' liars!

The place had to have had twice the space of my living room. I'm telling you, I could have brought 16 kids into that place and they'd have all been just fine. The entire preschool just came, and I had MY kids, and there were others in the waiting room... and we all don't fit??

I think the receptionists must be unmarried, childless cat owners or something. And if you want to do that with your life, I don't have a problem with it. But please, if you dislike children and that's your lifestyle, maybe a different job... you know, one in which you do NOT interact with people in the general public, who usually have kids?... might be a better fit for you.

OO, Mrs. C just gave out some career advice for free. God bless ya! :p

1 comment:

  1. I love the positive spin on this story. That is just the way we have to be sometimes to make it through the day. Glad Woodjie got the granola bar! Ian would be in the same boat.

    Next time I am mad at DH I am going to call him a "client." I think that'll work.

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