i had informed brian three months ago that i did not care if he worked way up in outer space, he would be joining me for this one. the doctor had even said, "four year shots are really awful." oh, great.
we showed up and, as usual, were ushered quickly into an examination room. the kids were measured ten ways to sunday. oliver weighed in at a robust 31 pounds (10-25th percentile) and 36.25 inches tall (less than zeroth percentile) and a blood pressure which sounded deadly, but i was assured it was just divine for a short person. violet is 18 pounds 6 oz (10-25th percentile) and 28.75 inches (75th percentile). with that cute belly she's been sporting, i do not understand how she ranks in a percentile that sounds like it belongs to waifs.
after everyone stripped down to their underpants, we waited and waited until dr linderman was finished with her newborns. i don't mind waiting because i really like that she will sit and talk with you until the cows come home and never once make you feel rushed. and she also says i have pretty babies and calls them each angel.
so in she comes and it's showtime. we decide to have violet go first so oliver can see it's no big deal and because it's violet's naptime and she's starting to lose her cool, which makes me hope doesn't cause the plan backfire. i led oliver over next to the table and held his hand so he could see and violet was totally cool with all the fancy flashlights and belly rubs and attempts at hip displacement. she wasn't too keen on having a popsicle stick trying to pry her mouth open, but she remained quiet for it.
then we plopped oliver up there and he did pretty well, but he wasn't having any of that flashlight in the eye business. it also took a little convincing to get him to open his mouth. then i told her how he hadn't done well on his hearing test at school, but we figured it was likely more an issue of extreme shyness and not so much auditory incapacity and she pulled out some handy, little device and plugged it right into his ears and declared his hearing 100 percent perfect. i told her i had figured as much, but there are times, on a daily basis, where i'm a little convinced he must be completely deaf. we asked if we should be worried about his near-constant aggression toward violet, because he is surely a sociopath, and she re-enforced time out and boundary techniques. and then he stomped on the big fire truck that was in there for kids to play with and she said, "that right there is just boy behavior," and i rolled my eyes like i was praying for god to delivery me from the behavior of little boys.
after heaps of chatting about my children, we moved on to the most terrible of the doctor's visit phases: NEEDLES.
i had made the decision this morning to let oliver know he would be getting a shot (DTAP booster, for my future reference) and he was non-verbal, considering he had no idea what a shot was, and i was trying to explain how it's medicine they give you and he showed me a plastic wrench and i was like, YOU ARE NOT LISTENING, ANYWAY... and then i said it just feels like a little pinch and i proceeded to pinch him many times with my fingernails on the arm and leg, because i wasn't sure where it would be going, and he seemed cool with that. well, he did keep saying after the exam, "oh, they already gave us the shot, so can i have that lollipop now?" nice try.
we had oliver go first so he wouldn't be freaked out by violet crying. he laid down on the table and brian leaned across him to keep him still and block his view and i turned away from his feet in my face and all of a sudden, the nurse was putting a band aid on him and i didn't believe she had actually administered a single, solitary thing. but she had. and he didn't so much as flinch and it was a miracle. he didn't wait to see how many licks it takes to get to the center of an organic, apple lollipop.
the nurse, for once, allowed me to latch violet on BEFORE any business was gotten down to, which i appreciated and then hoped she wouldn't end up choking and totally showing me to be the fool after all. i was relieved to see they no longer do that god awful toe slit thing for the iron check and instead, just did a finger prick that she did not even notice. unfortunately, she did notice the final round of her hib vaccinations. i don't know how pediatric nurses can be pediatric nurses.
we had been there for approximately 18 hours at this point and brian was totally getting anxious about missing work. and i told him tough titties he hasn't had to go to the pediatrician in a year anyway and we drove off in separate cars.
after feeding everyone and accidentally making myself some garlic and butter pasta with VANILLA soymilk, i made promises to oliver that if he stayed in his bed to nap while i put violet down, we would go to the park. lunching and getting everyone settled in to sleep is a multi-hour ordeal and i was exhausted by the time it was done. and it's rare to have them both napping at the same time, so i luxuriated in a thirty minute nap. which meant i didn't start making dinner until i woke oliver up at the late hour of 4:30. which meant i didn't finish making dinner until 5:30 and brian lied about staying at work late and actually got home a little early. fortunately, oliver's nap had erased all memory of park promises.
we dined on the super stinky gas-inducing asian vegetables with tofu and noodles. and red bell pepper. i was put out of commission. that was my friday night.
hours ago, this morning, i turned to see violet on her stomach on the floor and oliver on his back next to her slamming his shoed heel as hard as he could into her spine. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE THIS! HOW IS VIOLET SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE THIS!
now, we await the arrival of the in-laws and the last round of the birthdays 2010. stay tuned for that exciting chapter.