Get Me Outta Here! At the pediatrician’s office today trying to go over my son’s blood test results. It’s me, the very serious pediatrician, and my two kids locked in a 5×5 office. The only toy in the room is one of those wire racks with the beads that you move around. That entertained my kids for about 5 seconds. I would have brought toys with me (in fact, I have a bag of toys stashed in my car for such occasions) but I assumed that since we were going to see a pediatrician, I wouldn’t need it. So there I sat listening to him go on and on in extreme details about every aspect of my son’s blood test results while my two kids are growing more and more restless by the moment. As much as I appreciated his thoroughness, in the back of my mind all I could think was “dude get to the point”. I handed over my iPhone to the kids and told them take turns. As I sat there still listening to the doctor continue to go on and on, my five-year old is snapping as many pictures as she can of the office until she has to turn the phone over to her brother for his turn. Jack on the other hand goes for a different approach. Rather than take his own pictures he opts to play music. Next thing I know some Usher song is blaring at the loudest volume possible and I’m frantically trying to grab the phone out of my son’s hands and turn off the music. Meanwhile the doctor just kept talking as if nothing was going on around him. With the phone now put away I concluded our visit with two kids fighting for space on my lap while he asked if I had any questions? Are you kidding me, my only thought is how fast can I get out of here? As the doctor walked us out he actually said to me “you seem to have two really well-behaved kids there”. Are you serious? If that was well-behaved I don’t even want to imagine what your other patients are like. Maybe he’s just immune to bored children’s behaviour. I on the other hand now have 50 random pictures of my pediatrician’s office on my iPhone. Awesome!
The Inquisition. My two-year old son is always asking questions. What? Why? Who did that? Who bought that? Where did they buy that? Where are we going now? Where’s Daddy? Why is he at work? When will he be home? Why? Why? Why? Why? I feel like I’m being interrogated at every turn. If we are driving and I hit the brakes it’s what happened?” “why did you do that?”. Last week there was an accident by our house and a police car and fire truck were at the corner. Now every day on the way to school he asks “where did the police car go? Where’s the fire truck”. He’s also “Mr. State the Obvious”. When you answer the question he will repeat your answer to anyone near by, in case they didn’t hear. “Katie, we are going to school”. “Katie, the police car went back to the station”. “Katie, Daddy is at work”. This drives my daughter nuts. “I KNOW Jack, I can hear Mommy talking too!” The pediatrician asked if my son was late in talking. I said yes, but trust me, he’s making up for lost time.
Until I write again…