Well Checks

               
Yesterday afternoon I took the kids to the pediatrician for their well checks. It was long overdue. I re-scheduled it at least 4 times. We have the crappiest schedules in the universe and something always comes up. I always feel like an A-hole when I call and say, "Something has come up, I'm going to need to re-schedule." The receptionist is probably thinking I'm a horrible parent and not making my kids a priority. Bad Mom Award. In all fairness, I have done the same thing to myself. There was a 3 year stretch when I didn't go to the lady doctor. I worked in women's health, I would get people scheduled for their own annual exams and yet I went 3 years. For no good reason. I had health insurance. I just was really busy and it would skip my mind. It's terrible.

I made sure that I had no prior commitments, I scheduled it for a late Friday afternoon and on we went. I checked in and we waited forever as always. The kids looked at the fish. Then I had to badgered and begged for 1/2 an hour for fish. I reminded them that they had fish and they died in a day and so my 9 year old said that we could buy a real aquarium with a filter and the whole set up. She better save her allowance.

They called us back and hey kids sat on the exam table and I got the interrogation. The lady asked me how many times my 9 year old goes to the bathroom. I looked at her blankly. Does she even go to the bathroom? I turned to my daughter. "Go ahead and answer that question." How do I not know that? A mom, who at one time was OBSESSED with the pooping habits of my own children has no idea. I never even see them go into the bathroom. They are ninjas. They asked me how much milk they drink, if they use their seat belts. If they talk to strangers. What kind of a question is that? Why yes, I often let my kids look for lost puppies with strangers who own conversion vans with no windows.

They took their vitals. My 7 year old had normal blood pressure. My 9 year old failed her hearing test, which I knew she would. She missed 3 frequencies this time and I am concerned that she continues to have hearing loss, She is due to go back to the audiologist soon so we will see. My heart feels heavy about it. They took their height and weight and checked their eyes. Then they handed them paper gowns and told them to get in them.

My 9 year old doesn't change in front of anyone anymore. They started that about 6 or 7 month ago. She told me that I needed to stand in the corner and close my eyes. So I did and I felt like a weirdo. The gowns had red and yellow hand prints on them and my 7 year old asked, "Mom, why do they make us wear dresses with bloody hands?" haha.

The doctor came in then. She is new. We go to a large practice so we've seen 4-5 doctors over the years. It's a revolving door of pediatricians. This new doc was definitely younger than me. "Hi! I'm doctor so-and-so." My mind couldn't reconcile it. It was weird. She was in jeans tucked into knee high boots and a little American Eagle button up. She had a barrette in her hair. She looked like she walked right out of high school. She checked them out and we looked at their growth charts. My 9 year old grew 5 inches in a year. Her height went from the 25th to the 50th percentile. She does seem huge all of a sudden. She is only 5 1/2 inches shorter than I am. I can tell that she is growing because she eats like a horse. One night for her after - dinner snack she was eating peanut butter out of the jar, a large glass of milk, popcorn and 1/2 of a cantaloupe. She is going to be taller than me in 6th grade.

My poor little 7 year old is just going along at the 10th percentile for height and 5th percentile for weight. She's not even to 50 pounds yet. She's a little peanut of a child. We were looking at her charts and she said, "Mama, am I ever going to be big?" I shrugged, "I don't know, baby." I think she is always going to be a tiny person. She hates being the tiniest one. Everyone thinks she's younger than she is. Other kids always are trying to pick her up. She wants so bad to be bigger. I can commiserate.

The 16 year old doctor said we were good to go and we checked out. When we got home the kids asked if they could go play with the neighbors. I agreed. I made dinner in the house alone. My husband came home from work. "Where are the kids?" "Across the street." He gave me a sympathetic look. "You get sad when the kids don't pay attention to you." I nodded. He hugged me. "They are just growing up." That they are.