LOOK, I don't want her this upset

So...today was what you would call a mixed bag. Part rotten tomato, part luscious plum. It was GIRL's 3 year old check-up. The annual check-ups are doctor's appointments that I actually look forward to. This one seemed like it was going to be alright, yet there were signs early on that there might be a problem. Perhaps when I told GIRL what we were going to do today -first we'll go to Tarjay (Target for you neophytes) and pick-up some essentials, then we'll go see Dr. Y and see how much you've grown...INTERRUPTION of NO! erupting from the back seat. Yes, perhaps that was a small clue that going to the doctor's was not a pleasing idea to GIRL.

We arrive at the doctor's office, our parking angel flags us in to an open space and we get out of the car. We enter the lobby. I walk over to the reception desk to make the co-payment and GIRL bids hello to the fish in the tank near the door. Everything appears O.K. They call us, we walk to the back together and the nurse indicates which room we can go into to wait on the doctor who is ready for us. We enter the room and GIRL just FREAKS. She wails and clings to me with absolute, unequivocal terror. As in: the world is ending and I am going to die, Mommy don't leave me - abandonment issues type FREAK-OUT. It. Was. Awful. And...of course, I'm "probably projecting" as E would tell me, but today... I could see through her eyes the memory of that day we raced to the ER with blood gushing out of her head. After all, it was only 7 weeks ago ... And I really think she thought she was going to have to have an injection in her head again. Who wouldn't be scared of that?

So, the doctor tried, but GIRL didn't want any of it. She didn't want to get weighed, she didn't want to get measured. She didn't want to sit on the exam table. And by GOD, I wasn't going to force her. The nurse was annoyed and the doctor tried, but I finally had to say to them - LOOK, I don't want her this upset. By this time, I was practically in tears. It baffles me that people who work with children do not see that continuing to "encourage" a child, while she is crying traumatically is not helpful in any way. So, finally the doctor suggested that I sit on the exam table with GIRL on my lap and that worked like a charm. GIRL calmed down enough to be examined. Well, as much as you can be examined when you're attached chest to chest to your mommy with legs that appear bionic. Is there a Bionic Child? Apparently so. After the exam we again tried to have her step on the scale. No go. She was not having that. No. Nada. No WAY. So, I stepped on the scale and they took my weight. Then I picked her up and they took our combined weight and subtracted my weight from that to get her weight. Are you following? And then we left. She was ready. I was ready. No looking back. And from that moment on, the rest of the day was fine.

So, what was the luscious plum part of the day you ask? Was it the fact that I weighed less than I thought - with shoes on, I might add. No, although for a brief moment in time I was thrilled to hear that I weigh less than I did in high school. Until. Until I realized that yes, I do weigh less -BUT, everything hangs a bit differently shall we say. Hangs. Butt, too. And some things are going in directions that seem to attract gravity. A sad tale. Sometimes I wish I did believe in plastic surgery. *sigh*

The luscious plum! The luscious plum of the day was that after dinner, we all made ice cream sundaes together. BOY & GIRL got to scoop their own ice cream into bowls, pour the chocolate sauce and pour the sprinkles on - themselves! I had dibs on doling out the whipped cream. E was in charge of quality control - making sure every bite was savored. And it was. By all of us. Thank GOD for ice cream. Sometimes it saves the day.

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