Elevators

So far, the highlights of my week have been on elevators - I know bizarre, but, nonetheless, the highlights of my week (come on, it's only Tuesday!).

Yesterday, I load up the girls and we take the baby to the pediatrician. I was extremely sleep deprived as there had been no such thing for me the night before. K3 was agitated and could not get comfortable, and woke with a 102 temp. It's always a fight among the older two as to who gets to push buttons on the elevators when we go to the doctor's office, or anywhere for that matter. Fortunately, we have to take two elevators at the doctor's office and the girls generally take turns pushing the buttons. But yesterday K1 opted to push the stroller and let K2 have BOTH of the elevators (major concession K1!).

We visit the MD and learn (no surprise) that K3 has yet another ear infection (3rd one in 6 weeks). We leave, and, again, the conversation turns to who is going to push the elevator buttons. K2 pushes the outside button and runs on the elevator to push the inside buttons before K1 (who inevitably will pull a "sneak" and push them on the other side before K2 understands what has happened). K2 says, "Which one, Mommy" and I reply "#1 honey, the #1". She exclaims "There is no #1!". I, without looking as I'm maneuvering the stroller on board, say "Just look for the star, #1 and a star". "But, momma, there is no #1 - it's gone!". As I reluctantly let out a sigh (all the while thinking that I can't wait, please oh please, until the time that she can accomplish a simple task without a "but, Momma!") I look on the number board and realize that the button next to #1 is gone - just gone. By this time the elevator door has closed (we're on the 6th floor). I put my thumb against where the button for #1 should be and assume that the pressure, absent a button, will still get us there - WRONG. We stop on floor 5, and more people get on - they, too, begin their search for the button for #1, ya see, everyone going down is entering the elevator with the hopes of exiting the building on the 1st floor. So as we stop on several floors and more people get on we all watch in wonder as each new member of the "elevator team" looks for the button by #1. Then - we strategize - hopefully, someone on the 1st floor will hit the up button, or, surely, this elevator will automatically go to the bottom floor and rest there until it is needed. Well, it did, but the bottom floor was the basement, better known as "A" on the elevator panel, not the 1st floor.

So, by now, there are about 10 people on this elevator (some of which had to be highly educated with 8+ years of graduate school) and no one could figure out how to get to the 1st floor. They could cut you open, repair the most vital organs in your body, and carefully sew you back up, but could not figure out how to make an elevator stop on the 1st floor. At one point, K1, who is 7 years old, begins to understand that something is amiss and that there are adults on this elevator who cannot make it stop -- she looks at me with a little panic in her eyes.  I look back with that motherly look of confidence, and whisper, "it will be alright". 

Finally the elevator stops on the 2nd floor and the girls and I get off in hopes of catching another elevator, and, viola, we did - and we finally made it to the 1st floor - only to engage in yet another Calvert discussion regarding who gets to push the buttons on the next set of elevators!  Oh, the joy of childhood, elevators, and missing buttons!!