Well-child checkup

Sometimes I think it's odd when people blog or facebook about their child's health stats. Like everyone is desperate to know their kid's ranking on the growth chart or something. I'm sure people do it for journaling. Anyway, when I sat down to blog about Kyle's well-child checkup, I had to do a little self check-up to make sure that I actually wanted to write about a boring old doctor visit, but it was a funny visit, so I figured it was worth chronicling.

Kyle had his 4-year-old well-child checkup today. It had highs and lows. It started with an vision check. He had to stand a distance away from a chart of shapes of different sizes and name them. Here is what he said: "heart, flag, moon, star, little earth." What? Little earth? Or one could call it a simple "circle." We got a big kick out of that one. On another line he referred to a circle as, "The whole moon together." Some may say he's creative and was grouping space objects, but me? I know he was probably just improvising because he always forgets the word "circle." Taylor says it's because he's left-handed, and lefties are often more creative but sometimes don't grasp "scholastic smarts" until age 7 or 9. Kyle certainly gets points for creativity though.

Next he had to put on a little tie-in-the-back robe (this was new to me, I've never had my kids in robes for check-ups, but he did look super cute). Kyle was not too sure about the robe. "I feel like my underwear is showing," he complained. "Don't they know that boys don't like nightgowns?" (I have plenty pictures of him dressed up in Claire's princess outfits to declare otherwise.)

The doctor came in and asked him to jump on one foot. He did. She requested the other foot. He started on the other, but immediately switched back to the first foot. She smiled and told him he did great. He snuck over and whispered to me that he had actually jumped on the same foot both times. Yes, Son. She has a PhD, but you sure pulled one over on her.


I told the doctor about Kyle's propensity for putting everything in his mouth and then usually to swallow the item (money, small rocks, small plastic things). She was concerned about his iron and lead levels and wanted them tested. This required a finger poke and a couple miniscule sticks were filled with his blood. This apparently was too much for Kyle. Half-way through the stick-filling he started to gag. As soon as it was over he was really gagging, and both the nurse and I thought he was going to throw up. Then he lost all color and started sweating. He had to lie down with an apple juice for ten minutes before he could sit again. This is certain evidence that Taylor is his father (not that it was in question). Taylor passed out---cold out on the floor---while watching ME get my wisdom teeth out. I was fine, by the way. These funny wimpy boys in my life :)

Our visit concluded with a flu mist inoculation (which went fine) and Kyle's three kindergarten shots (KINDERGARTEN already?!?). During the shots he screamed and cried more than he or Claire ever has during shots. I was sad and teared up a bit for him, but it was a little over-the-top. After the nurse left, Kyle yelled at me, "We shouldn't have come here! It hurts so bad! I told you we shouldn't have come here!" He stopped crying the moment we got to the token reward machine, of course.

This made me so proud of Claire. I really think she was less than 2 the last time she cried for shots. She's super tough. When I told her about Kyle and commented on how brave she is, she said, "Just like you, Mom." Indeed. She and I triumph in having made it through stuff---for her it's her shots, for me it's my two-hour surgery while awake. We made it. These big girls don't cry. Our boys, on the other hand, need a few lessons.