Bad Idea #1... Waking a child up from a nap.
When you wake up a child from their nap, they become unholy terrors unable to be described by the English language. The only way to accurately describe the unimaginable shrieks and crankiness that comes out of a woken child is by the looks of utter horror on their parents' faces upon realization of what they'd be dealing with for the rest of the day.
I can't even begin to describe the look on my face after I realized what a mood A would be in for the rest of the day. It was a mix of horror, self-pity and the holding back of tears.
Bad Idea #2... Taking a teething child anywhere without copious amounts of ibuprofin.
A teething child usually goes through a few phases of teething. The first being minor crankiness and drooliness when the tooth is making it's way toward the top of the gum, and the last being manic-depressive episodes, st. bernard level drooling and 360 degree head rotation. I was unaware that A had reached the last phase today. Upon leaving, I noticed his shirt drenched in drool and that little line on his gum where the tooth had finally begin to poke through. I did not take the ibu with me.
Bad Idea #3... Being outnumbered in non-childproofed areas.
When I got to the WIC appointment, I had a teething monster and a hungry baby. The appointment was in an old office, at the top of a set of stairs, with absolutely no child proofing whatsoever. This meant that I would have to breastfeed WHILE restraining said teething monster. I tried diversions of coloring and books. I tried entrapment by putting him in chair pushed up against the table. I tried bribery with sticky snacks and sippy cups. I tried everything, but all A wanted to do was climb all over me. After the baby finally finished eating I was finally able to hold A, which was coincidentally the exact same time he decided he absolutely, positively did not want to be held. It quickly changed from holding to restraining, so as to keep him from plummeting down the stairs right outside the easily-opened door (complete with toddler-height doorknob).
Bad Idea #4... Poking the badger.
A was already unbelievably pissed off by being restrained. He almost exploded into little slimy bits of toddler when he had to get his finger pricked for iron testing. He screamed a scream nobody has ever heard in their life, save for anyone who has brutally tortured a banshee riding a dying cat in front of a loudspeaker. At this point he was squirming so badly both myself and the WIC lady could not restrain him. He ended up turned around hugging me so tight we couldn't get the band-aid on his finger, so I became covered in blood, snot, tears and sticky drool.
Bad Idea #5... Poking the badger some more.
The last bit of torture for my poor boy was the printing of the WIC checks. For some odd reason he absolutely HATES the sound of the 90's style printer (think printing onto the papers that had the tear-off holes on each side). As soon as the printing started he was clawing up my body so hard he almost knocked us backward off the chair. He was like those cartoon cats that claw up onto their owners heads when they're frightened. After the printing stopped he ran over to the door and signed "all done" as fast as his little hands could manage, all while crying hysterically.
Finally we got to leave, E in her carseat, me with a bag full of baby crap and A scared to go down the stairs. I went to prop him up on my hip and promptly pulled my rotator cuff so badly I now feel like I weight-lifted trucks all day. But hey, at least I was able to use my injury to get my husband to go food shopping for me.
Score 1 for me, 845,085,972,112,397 for bad luck.