No worries… no shots

He just had to prove me wrong.  Afer a little tussle over removing his shirt in the pediatrician “strip down” – the same refusal made by Chi the day prior – Ya reluctantly sat clad in diaper alone on the crinkle paper and waited. 

8.25 (12.)
8.25 (5.)

He allowed the nurse to enter the room.  She told him to get on the scale.  He did.  And then he immediately hopped back off it. Good luck getting that weight reading, lady… I got him back on the scale and she took his height estimate as well (mental note to self: if you want an accurate reading, don’t load kiddo’s hair with Black Magic Sheen Spray before visit… no one wants to touch it then).  She used a tape measure to size up the dome and Ya’s face said, “this lady’s crazy,” but he let her.

When Dr. L came in the room, I expected the two of us to have quite the two on one fight we’d shared in past visits.  I was all geared up for the struggle. He just had to prove me wrong. Ya allowed me to hold him in my arms while the doctor flashed his light in his eyes.  He obediently followed the beam of light.  He tilted his head to allow for the ear check.  He breathed for the stethoscope. He even let himself be lain down so the doctor could check his legs and his tummy.  He was not so eager to show his teeth or to allow the tongue compressor to enter his mouth and reveal the swinging thing in his throat (who is), but he didn’t fuss.

I’m still shocked.

Now, getting him to redress and to leave?  That was a fight.  Instead, he wanted to weigh himself on the baby scale.

8.25 (19bw)

Please tell me why the max weight on this thing is 300 lbs?  I mean, it is for a baby, right?

For my ever failing memory, the records:

27 pounds, 35 inches tall, 48cm head circumference.
No shots needed, we’re all caught up.
He’s graduated from the Well Baby Care sequence.  Next appointment? Kindergarten entrance shots (yikes!)
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Comments

  1. marciewrites says:

    I'm about to say something mean and please forgive me. That scale was created with some of the babies on Maury Pauvich in mind. If their parents don't go to jail, they will probably be a whopping three hunned by the time they're five years old.

    (This is Marcie from The Write Design Company)

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