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.
2 comments:
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.
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.
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