I used to love going to our well baby check-ups, or at the very least excited to see how much lil' man weighed or had grown. Actually, I was excited to go to the appointment today for developmental reasons, but by the time we left, Oliver was all cried out, I was heartbroken and FTD was beside him self. I officially hate well baby check-ups... Why? Because no one is "well" once we leave...
So we get there, the whole family is all smiles, Ollie is on the cusp of needing a nap, but still putting on the cutie pie show for all to watch. We got called back to a room fairly quickly, which is important when a 9-month old wiggle worm is involved. We were told to immediately strip lil' man down for his height, weight, head and temperature check.
Height: Tall (29in) 95%
Weight: Chub (24.7lbs) 75%
Head: Fat
Temp: Chillin' like a villin'
With that out of the way, the nurse asked the usual...
Second hand smoke? Negative
Breast or formula? FTD "Titty" Yes, he actually says this to the nurse
Daycare? Mommy Care
Concerns: Nah
She tells us that all looks good, and doc will be in soon. Cool.
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| All smiles... for now.... |
Doc starts his load of questions.
Crawling? Um Yeah, and cruising down the couch, and hauling ass down the hallway with his "sit to stand" walker. Doc is impressed.
Talking? Yep! Mama, Dada, Uh oh, and Hi.
Eating? Like it's a profession.
Concerns? Not really.
Doc checks him over, hears his lil' heart, checks out his lil' man, looks in his ears, nose, mouth, checks out his teeth (3 down 2 up) and eyes...
Oh, wait let me interject here... Oliver flips his shit the minute the doc starts poking him. Man it sucked! I want my baby to be awesome, easy going, the kid the doc looks forward too. Unfortunately, Oliver has a different opinion of that. He wants nothing to do with the doctor or his tools, in fact he is treating the doctor like he is a tool. I felt awful, for both Ollie and the doc. I was trying to make my baby calm down while the doc did his job. Oliver was just not having the scary guy with poking tools.
Finally the doc stops poking him and sits down to let FTD and I go over some Q & A of our own. We ask about how much Ollie should be eating, sleeping and what his development is like compared to other kids in his age group. And then I point out something awful I did to Ollie, to which the doctor confirms my worst fear... Stay tuned for tomorrow's post, "Mommy Fail #10."
Once we finish with the check-up the doc says, ok you will have 2 follow-up vaccinations, a flu shot, and a blood test today. I just wanted to say, "are you effing kidding me?!" Oliver just let out his first smile since the poking and prodding finished, this is not going to go well.
I was wrong, "this is not going to go well," could not be further from the truth, it actually went absolutely crazy nutzo baby screaming wacko. I mean, God-help-my-broken-heart, bad. I had to hold my screaming son down while the nurse stuck him. Damn that sucked ass!
I will never ever get the image of my Ollie screaming and crying out of my mind. His face streaked with tears, his eyes showing through the pain, begging me to save him. He was genuinely scared. FTD was standing a few feet back, giving me the same tearful glare. This was too much for him too. It is safe to say the whole family was traumatized today. I cannot wait until the damn vaccinations are over with!
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| This is Ollie clapping at the idea of no more shots. |
On the bright side, Ollie is healthy, happy and developing brilliantly for his age.
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