Monday, February 6, 2012

Winning. 18 months old

So as you know, all of these check ups are competitions.  Ones that I want to win.  And by "I" I mean my clearly amazing parenting.  (Thankfully, she didn't ask "Griffin, does your mother occasionally have a glass of wine in the afternoons?")  Because he would ahve said "yah" which is a frequent answer to questions. 

Other than Ben accidentally not reading and therefore checking the "Your child makes weird hand movements in front of their face" category G is on target.  (Note to self... dad can no longer fill out the forms.) 

8:00 AM G goes to Frances so Mama can shwoer and get dressed like a normal human being.  AND eat breakfast.

9:00 AM Mama realizes she needs to get her shit together and go get said baby.

9:30 appointment.  Ben is filling out the questionaire while I talk with the nurse.  He asks me if G is sensitive to sound.  I say yes (because he won't sleep at daycare.)

9:45 Please take your baby down to a clean dry diaper and bring him out for measurements.

9:46 Realize we have zero clean dry diapers in the diaper bag.  Become thankful that we picked a pediatrician that is prepared for poor parenting.

9:55  Dr. asks questions about hand gestures and and sensitivity to sound and I realize that the questionaire was about autism.  Laugh awkwardly.  Promise he doesn't make weird hand gestures.

10:00 apparently G has had an ear infection for a while.

10:01 Claim mom of the year award.  Try to get G to amaze doctor with all of his vocabulary to distract from my poor parenting.  And the fact that we did not have a "clean dry diaper" so had to steal one from the cabinet in the room.  hoping they didn't notice.

10:05 Dr. declares that he sure is a great talker.

10:06 sigh of relief.  All is good and right in the world and I have gone back to winning.  Minus that diaper thing.  Oh, and the ear infection.  Oh, and the autism  Quick, Griffin, show her how you say "sticker."

10:15 follow up appointment scheduled. 

10:16... I wonder if I should bring presents next time...

10:30 AM G goes back to Frances and Mama goes shopping sealing that Mom of the Year award once and for all.


Meg said...

When I was pregnant with Carson, Hadley told my OB that I was a 'foker'...aka smoker. Awkward laugh, promised I wasn't, more awkwardness, which made it even more awkward.
And I am shocked you let dad fill out the form. My husband would still be filling it out, three days later. It's liking reading, answering, and then writing is a challenge for him.
Way to WIN mom. And if G has your sense of humor...well, this thing is in the bag.

A.B. said...

At least she didn't tell her that you were a toker. Which I guess, technically, is still smoking.

Oh kids. And husbands. Who are slow form filler outters.