Pee in a Cup

Today I had another Dr. appointment. It seems I'm spending every Friday afternoon with someone in the medical field. What's more fun is I'm always dragging Olivia along since she attends daycare at my job and the Dr is close to my house (halfway across town). Olivia is astonished that I have to pee in a cup at every visit. In her loud toddler voice she questions my intentions... "Mommy, are you going to pee in that cup again?"... "What are you going to do with the cup?"... "Are you going to wash your hands?"... Now mind you, this conversation occurs in the waiting room. I hear snickers behind me as I try to shush Olivia.

By the time I get to the bathroom to leave my sample I have to pee so bad I feel like I may not make it. But not only do I have to encourage Olivia to hurry it up (because she always has to go potty right before me!), I have to write my name on the plastic cup AND peel away the wrapper from the tiniest wet nap in the universe. So I can provide a "clean" sample. It all seems like a very cruel joke.

Recently Olivia had to visit her pediatrician for a possible UTI. Thank goodness everything turned out okay (just some summer chaffing.) You can imagine her surprise when she had to provide the urine sample this time. This simple task made her day. My day, however, began like this...

Olivia woke up and immediately wanted to pick out her outfit for the day. She chose a beautiful blue... princess dress! Complete with plastic, princess high heels. Never mind that it was 90 degrees outside and she may have to return to daycare depending on the outcome of her visit that day. After much debate (damn, she's good) I convinced Olivia to wear a different dress that was pink and cotton. Who cared if it had 5 layers of ruffles and took 15 minutes to iron! Since it was pink, Olivia had to find her pink high heels that took a half hour to locate. At this point I didn't care if she wanted to wear her Hello Kitty rain boots. We had an appointment to make, and I was losing this battle quickly. After several attempts of getting her braids "just right" (Olivia's request, of course) we were finally out the door.

Olivia got many compliments on her high heels. I just smiled and grit my teeth. Come on people! Please don't encourage this behavior! I tried to help Olivia hold the plastic cup to catch the sample, but Ms. Independent HAD to do it by herself. When she clearly wasn't catching anything I had to reach in and help. Then we washed our hands for several minutes. I stopped only to swat her hand away from her prize urine sample as she tried to admire it.

Even though she kept asking to use the bathroom, the Dr. gave her a clean bill of health. Later I realized, she just wanted the chance to pee in a cup again. At least she didn't get all dressed up for nothing. Ugh!