Doctor, Doctor, Give Me the News
Last week Henry had his 18-month check-up. This is the last one where he has to go every three months, which I suppose is a good thing for him (fewer shots) and us (less exorbitant parking fees).
The past several visits to the doctor (both his regularly scheduled ones and when he was sick), Henry was quite gregarious. After we’d strip him down to only his socks and diaper (always a good look, let me tell you), he’d want to start wandering around, smiling and chatting and letting everyone check out his little tummy.
This time, however, he wanted nothing to with anyone other than Kristen or I, and he clung to us.
You see, Henry’s going through something of a shy phase. That’s actually a bit of an understatement. When in the presence of a stranger, he’ll bury his head into my chest or Kristen’s neck or my armpit (poor choice, Henry). If he’s not being held by one of us, he’ll wrap his arms around a leg and hold on tight.
It’s quite endearing, actually — a nice hug really gets right to your gut — and we know that he’ll grow out of it (it’s pretty typical for kids his age), but it can be a bit of a problem when he, say, needs to have his ears checked or his throat or measured.
(A measuring update: he’s a little over 34 inches tall — which is 90th percentile — and 24 1/2 pounds — which is below the 50th. He’s still long and skinny.)
So when Dr. Weinstein was doing his thing, there were howls and tears and gnashing of teeth, but as soon as he was far enough away from the doctor and able to hug Kristen, it all stopped. No more tears.
An aside: Henry has, to my displeasure, begun to call out “Mommy” when he’s sad or scared or hungry or worried. I can be right there — or, even worse, holding him — and if he wants something, it’s all Mommy, Mommy, Mommy. Kristen seems quite happy about this development, however. Go figure.
Then we dressed him, and he was happy because he thought it was time to go, but, of course, there was the dreaded shot.
He only got one this time (and I think he’s done with most of his shots for another year), but he was so unhappy after, he didn’t even want the Bugs Bunny bandage. Refusing Bugs? Sacrilege.
And hopefully, he won’t be back there for another six months. Unless, of course, he starts asking us if he can have another shot, just for fun.
