Michael had his three year well child visit yesterday. I feel like crying every time I say or write "well child". It should be a "well baby" visit. He cannot possibly be three years old. He cannot possibly be 39 inches tall (90th percentile). At his last visit, he wasn't even tall, he was long. When did he become mature enough to stand still long enough to be measured?
The appointment started off well enough. I had prepared Michael for the appointment so he knew he'd be weighed and that the doctor would want to see in his eyes and ears and mouth. I've done this in the past, but this was the first time it really seemed to make a difference. Michael was very cooperative with the nurses and doctor. I was so proud.
I did have one concern about the appointment. They had asked that I have Michael fast for the appointment so they could run a lipid panel on him. Fasting isn't much fun if your an adult, but if your three, it's just down right confusing. I've spent the past two years cheering every bite he takes, so he didn't know what to think when he asked for food and I said no. I'm sure he didn't even think it was possible for me to refuse him food.
If there is one thing in life that you can count on, it's that a hungry child is an unpredictable child. I expected him to be a little cranky, but that's not what I got. Instead, super silly, uncontrollable child showed up. Michael has never misbehaved in front of the pediatrician before, so I've never had to discipline him in front of the doctor before either. Well, Michael gave me that opportunity yesterday. Wow, is that uncomfortable.
For some reason, Michael occasionally decides that he is a dog and that he must lick my face. That desire hit him full force yesterday while I was trying to speak with the doctor. Normally when Michael does this, I let him lick me, then I lick him back. Hey, it's appropriate behavior...for wolves. Obviously, I was not going to lick my kid's face in front of the doctor, but I didn't know quite how to calm him down. I opted for the repeat "don't do that" 30 times approach. I'm sure the doctor was highly impressed with my skill at controlling Michael. His only response was, "I see he has no problems with his motor skills." No, no he does not.
After the face licking, it was time for the doctor to check Michael out. Michael was great with the stethoscope. He was calm for several minutes while the doctor listened. Then the doctor checked his eyes and mouth. Everything looked good. The doctor asked to look in the first ear and Michael even turned for him. The doctor asked him to turn for the other ear. Michael gladly complied.
"Has Michael been sick?" The doctor asked.
Uh-oh. "He's had a touch of a cold, nothing major.
"It look's like he has an ear infection. There's just some pus back there so I think it's resolving. Has he had any trouble sleeping?" He asked mildly.
My verbal response was, "No, he's been sleeping fine. He's been a little cranky in the evenings, but I thought that was from the cold."
My mental response was...OH MY GOD! MY KID HAS AN EAR INFECTION AND I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW IT! I'm the worst mother in the world. How do you miss something like an ear infection? The doctor must think I'm an idiot. I am an idiot. Oh, my poor baby. *
I love Michael's doctor. He wasn't judgmental at all. He wrote a script for antibiotics and told me to fill it if Michael got worse. But he made sure to let me know that he didn't think it would be necessary. Then we moved on to the safety discussion and wrapped things up. After not knowing that my child had an ear infection I decided that a sacrastic "no kidding" would be inapropriate when he warned me about the dangers in parking lots.
From there we went down the hall so the nurse could draw some blood from his finger. he flinched a little when she pricked his finger, but aside from that he was fine with the whole process. He walked out into the waiting room with me and occupied himself with the toys while I paid for the visit. He's grown into such a big boy. I'm so proud, and weepy...
On the way home, he devoured the bag of snacks I had brought for him. Then he devoured his dinosaur noodles, and the Froot Loops, and the banana and the... Well, at least I know how he's manged to move up to 75th percentile for weight.
*Yeah, and remember last fall when Michael complained about his ear to the day care director so much that she called me to make sure I took him to the doctor, and there was NOTHING WRONG! Little stinker.