Trouble With Checkups

Today was Lance's 18-month old checkup. Up until now, he was a model patient. All the staff at the office just loved it when he came in because he didn't fuss or squirm or scream.

All that has changed.

I had to bring him in last week to have a burn checked out. The Dr. wanted me to bring him back this week so she could check to make sure it was healing well, and also to do his well-child exam at the same time. I think he was traumatized from last week's visit, and as soon as we walked through the door from the waiting room to the exam area, my easy-going, well-mannered child became a screaming, clingy monster. He screamed his little head off the entire time-- while he was being measured and having his temperature taken; when he was being weighed; when the doctor checked his eyes and ears.

Then they wanted to administer vaccines.

I said no, not today, thank you very much. My child is obviously very frightened.

One thing I like about my doctor is she values my opinion as a mother and doesn't fight me on things like delaying vaccines for awhile. ( I have been vaccinating him, but a little bit behind schedule. I don't want him to have too much too soon.) However, today they had to do a finger prick to check his blood for lead. We were supposed to do this at his 12-month visit, but things got crazy and I never made it to the lab, so she had the nurse do a prick today.

I don't know why this particular nurse is in pediatrics. She's apparently afraid of children and has little patience with mothers who want to hold their children on their laps instead of just dumping them on the table. Argh.

I didn't schedule his next checkup. I'm going to find another pediatrician. I like the doctor all right, but her staff is awful and her office is not well-supplied. It's dingy, smells bad, and since we've moved it's a half-hour away.

Sigh. We came home and I let Lance have a popsicle and watch Sesame Street. Now he's taking a nap.

Poor little guy.

To Nap or Not To Nap...

...This is the question.

Lance can't seem to make up his mind if he wants to take one nap a day, or two. He's in that pesky sleep-transition stage that I just simply detest. I don't care either way, I just want him to make up his mind already!!!

Yesterday he only took one nap. For 3o minutes.

Today he took an hour nap. We didn't think he would go down for a second nap, but sure enough he did, and he's been asleep for another hour now.

I know I just need to be patient, that he will settle into a routine, just as he did when he went from napping on and off all day as a newborn to taking 3 naps a day: morning, afternoon, and a little evening snooze. Then, there was another awful transition time when he gave up his evening snooze and went to just a morning and afternoon nap. Now we're in another icky transition.

I'm a creature of habit. I know I should have learned by now that with a young kiddo, routine and habits are irrelevant. But I can't help myself.

Sigh. I'm sure in another week or so he'll get himself settled into a new routine. For now I'll just grit my teeth and get through one day at a time.

He's All Boy

Have you entered my contest yet?? Go check it out!

He's all boy, my little man. While he may occasionally pick up a doll to play with or want to wave a pom-pom in the air, it's things like this make me secure in the knowledge that my little guy is all man.

This evening, we were hosting our weekly bible study. There are 5 couples in the group who gather to have dinner together and discuss things of God. We're currently reading a book called "God Is Closer Than You Think" by John Ortberg. I highly recommend it. Anyhoo. As everyone was arriving, Lance comes into the family room and announces "I gotta BUG!" (Well, maybe not in those particular words, in fact it was more like "gibberish-gibberish BUG!" even though everyone in the room knew exactly what he was saying.) In his hands, he held a small dead lizard that he found in a windowsill. The men in the group think it will be funny if they encourage him to bring it to me. I hear a chorus of "take it to Mommy!"

Since Lance is such a compliant, willing-to-please child, he did so. He walked right up to me holding this dead lizard waving it around in the air, and...

drum roll, please....

He put it in his mouth.

I uttered profane, blasphemous things and somehow I managed to leap over the ten people who were milling around in my kitchen and land in the opposite corner, far far away from such disgustingness without hurting anyone.

All the women shrieked along with me. All the men starting guffawing and chuckling.

Thankfully, someone nearby to Lance was able to extricate the ex-reptile from his mouth.

That's my boy!

Bless You!

Lance has the cutest little sneeze you ever heard. He also has a "word" that he says. I don't know what it means, he has employed it for multiple uses. The word is "digga." Last night after his bath, I was putting a clean diaper on him and getting him into his sleepers for the night. He let out two little sneezes.

I said, "Bless you!"

He let out a sigh of relief, as we often do when a sneeze finally escapes, looked up at me and said very particularly and purposefully, "Digga."

It was so cute. It seemed just like he was saying "thank you."

Melt my heart!

4 A.M. wonderfulness

It's 4:00 A.M.

I just changed the wettest, soggiest, soakingest, drippingest, heaviest, most dense collection of infant urination that I have ever encountered in my 9 months of motherhood.

Just thought you should know.

Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days of Summer

In some parts of the country, summer is over. The air is turning crisp, leaves are fading from bright green to the lovely palette of burnt oranges and reds signifying autumn. (Hey- I can get poetic when I have a mind to!)

That is not so where I am here in South Florida. The only indication that fall is on the horizon is the fact that my calendar is turned to September and the fall equinox is marked in a box. Additionally, people are throwing their end-of-summer/Labor Day barbecues, one of which we attended last week.

Here is a picture of Lance enjoying a watermelon.

That's my arm there next to him. :)

This photograph tells a story. A story that most likely I will be the only one to remember. Just minutes before this photo was taken, Lance and I took a spill. A nasty spill.

At this particular gathering, there were two other families with young children, ranging from age 2-6. They were running back and forth between the house and the slip-and-slide which is not pictured here. The patio floor, as a result, was wet. I did not know this. As I was carrying Lance out to the backyard to join in the festivities, I slipped in a puddle and the two of us went down. Hard.

I landed on my knees and then toppled forward. Then, things went in slow motion. I saw Lance falling away from me, his head milliseconds away from smashing on the hard tile floor. Then, I heard it. A loud "smack." I saw his head bounce. I was certain that when I lifted him up, I would see blood all over the floor.

Miraculously, there wasn't. Everyone who was in attendance saw something different from what I remember. They all said that they saw me catch him, with my hand behind his head, and that it was my hand that hit the floor.

I'm tellin' ya, they must have seen the hand of the Lord supporting my boy's head, because to my recollection, my hand was nowhere near his head. Plus, if my hand had indeed hit the floor with the weight of a 22-pound baby pressing it down, surely there would be a bruise or something, but no. I felt no pain on my hand and there's not a mark on it.

Someone grabbed Lance from me, and someone else helped me up to my feet. They were all asking me if I was okay, and I was annoyed with them for not immediately getting something to stop the blood gushing out of his head (because I was sure that it was) and/or calling 911. I didn't understand why they didn't seem to care.

It's because they witnessed a miracle. They witnessed my child's life being saved by the hand of an angel. I wish I could have seen it, too!

My knees got a little banged up and bruised, and they're still a little tender, but other than that, we're all fine! As you can see from the photo, Lance calmed down as soon as we gave him some food! I think he was more scared than anything else.


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If you haven't already, stop by Growing A Life and wish Flybaby a happy 1st birthday!



Here is a picture of Flybaby and Lance in adjoining high chairs at a local ice-cream place. Damselfly, J.P., Lance, Hubby and I went out to celebrate with them. His birthday was on Friday, but today Damselfly and J.P. are hosting a party for him at their home. More pictures to follow!