We can't run, that would be wrong. Could we hide?

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Since I've reached the point of wanting to drown myself in the washing machine, I know it's the Thursday before a kid-free weekend. I have no doubt that I set myself up, psychologically, for a collapse of all patience and tolerance when the end is near. The light at the end of the tunnel is always a double-edged sword for me - I know that relief is coming, but since I can see it and it's so close, I let my A-game slip down to my B- or C+ game. That makes Thursdays an exercise in frustration. Bean goes to my parents' house and then Dave picks her up from there to spend the night at his place, so all I have to deal with from 10:00 on is Miss O's tiny, but hissy-fit throwing, self. I'm going to have to get one of her screamy-babble-"oh-no-you-di-int" fits of film. The girl needs to start using words, and soon.

Speaking of, Miss O survived her VCUG. I'm not sure if I can say the same for her parents.

The folks there were super efficient and very good at cathing a tiny little person, but it involved strapping her down and mommy having to stand at her head and hold her hands above her head while she screamed bloody murder. Dave kept trying to distract her and I kept trying to talk her down but neither of us had any luck getting her to stop screaming. It was awful.

But there were small mercies. Like I said, the folks who did the procedure were wicked good, so they got the cath in fast and got the contrast solution in fast. They got their pictures, pulled the cath and, second small mercy, she peed everything out immediately. She was going to have to stay strapped down and screaming until she peed, and they said it could take up to 20 minutes for her to pee it out. She must have gotten the message because as soon as the cath was gone, so was the contrast solution :)

They offered me a dressing room to nurse in if I wanted to, but since O calmed down so quickly as soon as the straps were off, I passed. She still wouldn't go to Dave, who came to the procedure to be there for O, but at least she wasn't screaming. She was good enough to stay with him for a little while and allow me to go to the bathroom (toddler + public restroom = levels of yuck that make even my highly-cootie-tolerant self cringe), and then I took her over to PetSmart to see kitties. There's little else that makes the Baby Girl as happy as kitties :)

This is the cat I fell in love with; and this cat was especially taken by Miss O - every time she saw O, she made biscuits or head-bonked the glass on her cage. Miss O was delighted with her, too. Not that I'm looking for another cat, but if I were, I just really want a boycat. Like Fairfax.

Miss O took a feather wand and played with all the kitties thru the glass. There were three of them, and all three were obviously grateful for both the attention and the play. Someone remind me that being a single mom of a certain age with four cats already puts me in the virtually undateable category ... bumping up the cat numbers would not be improving my situation. At all.

Is it 9:45 yet?

My folks are coming over in a little bit to spend a couple hours with the girls while I go to an interview at a staffing company. Wish me luck at being able to shift gears from overtired and cranky mommy to totally employable and not at all imbalanced professional. Piece of cake. At least I'm having a morning that makes me *want* to go back to work ... {sigh}
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