Two-year checkup
Ellie had her two-year checkup today.
I hadn't been looking forward to it, mainly because of her performance at her 18-month checkup. At that visit, she started looking suspicious when we walked into the exam room. When I undressed her and tried to put her on the scale, she screamed the house down and clawed at my neck, trying to get off. I think I had marks on my neck for days. We ultimately calculated her weight by weighing Mommy with and without Ellie on the big scale out in the hall. I told her afterward that she was in big trouble, since her pediatrician is my partner, and I wasn't especially keen for everyone at my workplace to know exactly how much I weigh. Through the rest of her checkup, she clung to me as tightly as a barnacle and shrieked whenever someone tried to do something to her. When her doctor walked into the room and saw that she was wrapped around my neck, he deadpanned, "I guess you're not having any attachment issues."
What a difference six months makes. Today she walked into the office and showed everyone her hat. She stood on the big scale out in the hall to be weighed, and she stood against the wall to be measured. When her doctor asked her questions, she would either nod or answer "yeah" or "no". She let him listen to her heart and lungs, and even said "ah" after some prompting and the use of a tongue depressor. Ellie's never thrilled about having ear wax cleaned out of her ears, but she actually sat still for it and didn't cry. The nurse then came in and gave her a shot and took a little blood to test for anemia, and Ellie didn't cry for that, either. When she was finished, the nurse asked Ellie, "So, are we good? Are we still friends?" And Ellie answered, "Yeah."
I guess that prayer works. Either that, or reading "Corduroy Goes to the Doctor" every night for three weeks before her checkup.
I hadn't been looking forward to it, mainly because of her performance at her 18-month checkup. At that visit, she started looking suspicious when we walked into the exam room. When I undressed her and tried to put her on the scale, she screamed the house down and clawed at my neck, trying to get off. I think I had marks on my neck for days. We ultimately calculated her weight by weighing Mommy with and without Ellie on the big scale out in the hall. I told her afterward that she was in big trouble, since her pediatrician is my partner, and I wasn't especially keen for everyone at my workplace to know exactly how much I weigh. Through the rest of her checkup, she clung to me as tightly as a barnacle and shrieked whenever someone tried to do something to her. When her doctor walked into the room and saw that she was wrapped around my neck, he deadpanned, "I guess you're not having any attachment issues."
What a difference six months makes. Today she walked into the office and showed everyone her hat. She stood on the big scale out in the hall to be weighed, and she stood against the wall to be measured. When her doctor asked her questions, she would either nod or answer "yeah" or "no". She let him listen to her heart and lungs, and even said "ah" after some prompting and the use of a tongue depressor. Ellie's never thrilled about having ear wax cleaned out of her ears, but she actually sat still for it and didn't cry. The nurse then came in and gave her a shot and took a little blood to test for anemia, and Ellie didn't cry for that, either. When she was finished, the nurse asked Ellie, "So, are we good? Are we still friends?" And Ellie answered, "Yeah."
I guess that prayer works. Either that, or reading "Corduroy Goes to the Doctor" every night for three weeks before her checkup.
posted by Jeanne @ 2:04 PM
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