we went to the doctor yesterday. i hate the doctor. let me tell you why: i have three children.
so, after much conversation about things like shots and stethoscopes and cotton balls and that little hammer that the doctor uses to hit you on the knee so you almost kick him, and after many things like finding shoes for everyone, brushing their hairs, re-finding shoes that had been taken off and hidden (kate!), we managed to swing by the school to grab ava and head over to the doctor's office.
some information about our doctor: he's 86-years-old. he has two hearing aids and he still can't hear us half the time. he knows A LOT about kids. and he's a firm believer in children eating fruits and vegetables, running outside and climbing things and above all, he likes to believe this: children do not break, they bounce. i must be old school, because i believe all those things, too. so we get along, he and i.
so there we are, taking our shoes off to stand on the scale, and pressing our bodies against the wall and standing as tall as we possibly can so we can be measured and the nurse takes ava's temperature.
"she has a fever," she says, "is that why you brought her in here?"
oh shoot. i already have one-to-many kids for our area and i always feel like we're a little overwhelming whenever we go somewhere, but now it looks like ava's sick and i had no idea (which is exactly what's happening).
"um, no," i say, "we're here for our yearly."
"oh," the nurse checks ava's throat. she steps back and points at the little red dots at the back of ava's throat. "she's got strep throat," she tells me. "she's going to need medicine."
oh. well. we finish up our appointment, which involves kate giving that mean old doctor a kick right in his gut and then bicycling her legs in the air and screaming angrily right at him as he holds her up and says, sternly, "now hold still! you're going to fall right off the examination table if you don't hold still!" (for inquiring minds: this is after she kicked him. on purpose) and then seth walked out with a limp because he'd had shots and then kate walked right into a wall because she was wearing her blankee on her head and pretending to be a ghost.
we went and got a toy each (well, not me) at target to celebrate us being so awesome even though we had to go to the doctor and then grabbed some lunch and then went home (finally!) and ava suddenly morphed int the cuddliest little 6-year-old you've ever seen. she's never cuddly. and she had her blanket all wrapped around her and she immobilized my entire left side with her cuddling and felt all warm from her fever and breathed all over me. loudly. and if there's one thing i hate (there isn't. i hate a lot of things) it's loud body sounds. like chewing. or breathing. or sniffing. or swallowing. and that's how we ended the day: far too much cuddling and breathing and a lot of relief knowing that the doctor's office isn't going to happen for another year.
please, dear readers, tell me this is all too familiar?
so, after much conversation about things like shots and stethoscopes and cotton balls and that little hammer that the doctor uses to hit you on the knee so you almost kick him, and after many things like finding shoes for everyone, brushing their hairs, re-finding shoes that had been taken off and hidden (kate!), we managed to swing by the school to grab ava and head over to the doctor's office.
some information about our doctor: he's 86-years-old. he has two hearing aids and he still can't hear us half the time. he knows A LOT about kids. and he's a firm believer in children eating fruits and vegetables, running outside and climbing things and above all, he likes to believe this: children do not break, they bounce. i must be old school, because i believe all those things, too. so we get along, he and i.
so there we are, taking our shoes off to stand on the scale, and pressing our bodies against the wall and standing as tall as we possibly can so we can be measured and the nurse takes ava's temperature.
"she has a fever," she says, "is that why you brought her in here?"
oh shoot. i already have one-to-many kids for our area and i always feel like we're a little overwhelming whenever we go somewhere, but now it looks like ava's sick and i had no idea (which is exactly what's happening).
"um, no," i say, "we're here for our yearly."
"oh," the nurse checks ava's throat. she steps back and points at the little red dots at the back of ava's throat. "she's got strep throat," she tells me. "she's going to need medicine."
oh. well. we finish up our appointment, which involves kate giving that mean old doctor a kick right in his gut and then bicycling her legs in the air and screaming angrily right at him as he holds her up and says, sternly, "now hold still! you're going to fall right off the examination table if you don't hold still!" (for inquiring minds: this is after she kicked him. on purpose) and then seth walked out with a limp because he'd had shots and then kate walked right into a wall because she was wearing her blankee on her head and pretending to be a ghost.
we went and got a toy each (well, not me) at target to celebrate us being so awesome even though we had to go to the doctor and then grabbed some lunch and then went home (finally!) and ava suddenly morphed int the cuddliest little 6-year-old you've ever seen. she's never cuddly. and she had her blanket all wrapped around her and she immobilized my entire left side with her cuddling and felt all warm from her fever and breathed all over me. loudly. and if there's one thing i hate (there isn't. i hate a lot of things) it's loud body sounds. like chewing. or breathing. or sniffing. or swallowing. and that's how we ended the day: far too much cuddling and breathing and a lot of relief knowing that the doctor's office isn't going to happen for another year.
please, dear readers, tell me this is all too familiar?
At least you didn't need to go to the doctor a second time for Ava's throat. It's nice they did it all at once!
ReplyDeleteAnd, yes, I am there. I actually fear my doctor's visits because I have 3 little boys with me and am 8 months pregnant and everyone is thinking, "doesn't this lady know how to not get pregnant?" Anyway, I feel your pain. (and I miss you)
All. Too. Familiar. And before you know it those moments are gone, so hold on tight to them.
ReplyDeletewe had a similar experience at henry's three year. the doctor asks him if he now knows more than his previous 5 words...and all he can do is talk like a baby? babbling non-understandable words because he thinks it is funny? then when he asks him to draw a circle he refuses...so embarrassing and what a process with three kids all crammed into a little doctors office. good things the doctor was laughing by the end of it!
ReplyDelete