The Check-Up

Friday, April 3, 2015

Post-Check-Up Starbucks

Today was Lucca's 18- month check up. These doctor visits every few months bring mixed feelings for me: 1. I'm excited to see his development, see how much he's grown and if he's on track and 2. I'm freaking dreading it because I know the scene that is about to unfold.
The pediatrician warned me that after their first birthday, the check-ups are hardest at 15 months and 18 months. I don't know if this is true for most kids, but for Lucca, well, let's just say I'm thankful we both make it out alive by the end of the appointment.
Shredded paper everywhere. The grabbing. The hair pulling. The screaming. The crying. I've learned what to wear to these appointments: layers that are easily strippable, hair pulled back, non-slip shoes. Oh yes, doctor appointments with a toddler are freaking serious business. Or at least my kid. I'm pretty sure that I sweat more in that damn room in 45 minutes wrestling a 28 pound little boy then I do in an hour-long Zumba class on a Thursday night. 
Today wasn't any different. Lucca knew what was about to go down the second we stepped foot into the room. I started to take of his clothes and he instantly threw his arms around my neck in a panic. Ohh, shit. We hadn't even been there 5 minutes and it's already started like this? And this is supposed to be the easy part. The measuring, the weighing. Piece of cake, right? We haven't even gotten to the shot portion of the visit when you should actually be displaying all sorts of freaking-out-behavior.
Almost an hour later, we made it through the appointment, everything still intact. I always wonder what the doctor thinks as she leaves the room. "Holy crap, good luck lady" or "What the hell is she doing?". In an effort to just keep Lucca busy in today's appointment, I had given him a pen and a piece of paper. By the end of our visit, he had given his entire body tattoos while we discussed his sleep and eating habits. Yep. Go for it dude. Luckily, the pediatrician was cool with that, too. I think she was mostly impressed by his ability to hold a pen and to make lovely scribbles around his belly button and kneecaps. Proud moment. Write that shit down under his fine motor skill development.
And (crossing my fingers) we won't be back for another 6 months until his two-year checkup. I think I'm going to let Greg take the next one. He needs to know how to handle a doctor appointment solo. It'll toughen him up a bit. 

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