dear silly girl,
today was… interesting.
you had your 2 year check up today and it was delightful. you may be every doctor and nurse’s nightmare. you didn’t want to do anything that had to be done.
nurse: stand on the scale.
me: they just wanna see how much you weigh, baby. stand up on the scale.
you: no, mama.
nurse: i can just take your weight and then have you hold her and get hers.
me (in my mind): well, isn’t this just my lucky day!
i had to stand on the fancy digital scale and wait for it to beep. i did not look at the number as to keep my focus for the olympics.
we went into our little room. she wanted to get your height by having you lie down on the bed-thing and mark the paper with your length. this was apparently just too much to ask. you were sure that she was going to cut your legs off, or worse, give you a shot. we tried begging, pleading, and bargaining, but it didn’t work. i ended up having to hold you down on the table so she could get your height.
then she informed me that since you were two, they now had to check your hemoglobin. they do this by pricking your finger and then squeezing the tar out of it several times.
you fought less with this, surprisingly, but man the tears and snot were flowing! i hate these appointments as much as you. i hate seeing you upset. the finger prick was the only painful part.
but there was no convincing you of that.
the doctor came in and had to check your ears, mouth, belly, heart, and the nether regions. you did not cooperate for any of it. at one point you kicked her enough to push her chair back. you’re tough stuff, my little cream puff.
by the time we left, your eyes were puffy and that lip was dragging the floor. a sucker and a sticker at reception barely perked you up. but you hadn’t had a nap yet either.
i decided that we should just go ahead and drive to the dentist’s office to take your paperwork that your doctor had filled out for your hospital visit next friday. you fell asleep on the way there and got about a 30 minute nap in.
it was not enough.
i woke you up and we headed in the hospital. we made a pit stop at the potty where you were scared of the toilet being flushed. probably because it’s so loud in hospital bathrooms.
then you announced that you weren’t going to ride the elevator. but you did.
we made it to dr. camak’s office and gave the receptionist the form.
receptionist: is casey with you?
her: we’re gonna go ahead and take an xray while you’re here.
me: okay, we just came from the doctor so i don’t know how good she’ll be, but we’ll try it.
me (in my head): oh, joy of all joys.
we went back and sure enough, it was hellish. to take an xray, you were required to bite down on this tiny piece of paper/plastic/whatever. however, you didn’t want to bite it.
the assistant did everything she could. i held your arms down. lots of tears and snot ensued.
the struggle seemed like it went on for days. i’m pretty sure it was only a couple of minutes, but by the time we were done, i had sweat dripping off of all of my crevices. i haven’t been so shiny since i was 16.
you got to pick out 2 toys and then we headed home.
and i just wanna clarify this for you: if all of this wasn’t necessary, i wouldn’t be making you do it.
and to further prevent any additional dental work, you are no longer drinking sweet drinks or juice. you drink water at bedtime and have only fruit for snacks. we brush your teeth twice per day and use a prescription strength fluoride toothpaste twice per week.
these are not the happiest of times.
i’m sorry to inform you that you have your father’s teeth. so if you’re looking for someone to blame, he’s probably sitting at his desk in front of a computer game at this very moment. i’m only guessing, but if you wanna find him and give him a piece of your mind, i’ve given you directions.
don’t tell him i sent you.