Oddly Anti-Climatic
The girls had their well visits this past Saturday, which, if you're keeping score, means Mila's was only one month late. That is not bad, all things considered. Alexis' was, uh, six months "early." Or something. It starts with one month late then rolls to two months late and then BAM! It's six months early.
At least I managed to line them up so they could go at the same time. Let's pretend that was a purposeful thing. Ahem.
Anyway, because I tend to remember that these things need to happen later than I probably should, this time I ended up scheduling with a new doctor at the practice. For the most part, I love our pediatricians, which is plural because it's a group practice. There is one physician I avoid, but mostly they're good.
They're also trained. By me.
There's a thing that always happens that makes me nuts. Alexis' BMI is cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs because the kid can kick your ass. There's no doubt about it - she's is one muscular little person. It's very deceiving because she doesn't look big, per se, but if you have her stand on a scale? You'll think the scale is broken. It's really handy when you want a prize at a carnival. It's not so handy at the doctor's office because there tends to be this awkward moment where they feel the need to mention her cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs BMI and then I glare and it's just weird.
It's really better when they don't bother to say anything, y'know? Her BMI is fine. Her weight is fine. She's fine.
And then there's Mila. Miss Mila was born at a glorious 9 lbs 6 ozs and was super tall to boot, but it might all be a lie because she cruised right on out of the upper percentiles for height of weight. She's been "too short" and "too small" and "too tiny" and "too everything" since she was probably three days old. I'm really not convinced she was ever anything other than tiny, which makes the whole "fell off the charts" thing not so bad. She was never on there! Let's go with that!
So, normally the first time we see a pediatrician, there is a comment about Alexis being too big and Mila being too small and then I have to knock heads against the wall because the girls live in the same house and are offered the same foods. Clearly one of them likes junk more than the other and SURPRISE! The tiny one is the one who tries to live off carbs and sugar. The one with the crazy BMI is the one who happily eats plain lettuce (with no dressing because she's a weirdo) for dinner when she wants "salad."
It's pretty clear the girls are who they are and their environment doesn't have much to do with it. I have long ago accepted that I'm not changing them.
Which is why I was prepared to argue. I assumed that a new doctor meant I was going to have to do some training. As usual. I had my Mom Glare all sorts of ready and waiting.
AND THEN THE DOCTOR DIDN'T SAY THE THINGS.
It was so confusing.
And then it got more confusing when we hit the topic of Mila ever considering maybe doing the potty training thing. The short answer to how that's going is "Hahahahahahaha ... nope." I said as much, fully expecting to be handed a pile of know-it-all-edness that would try to convince me to try harder. And then THAT didn't happen either. "We all know toddlers decide to do what they want when they want to do it."
She said that.
The pediatrician said that.
Which left me feeling weirdly disappointed. What good does it do to be prepared for battle only to find out that the person is actually on your side? It's definitely better this way, but it's SO WEIRD.
Monday, July 17, 2017
