Welcome to my Weblog!
Welcome to 1 Mother 2 Another! To read my most recent weblog entries, scroll down. To read entries from one category, click the links at right. To read my journey from the beginning, click here. To find out more about me, click here.
Top 5s
Short on time? Click here to go to my Top 5s Page - links to my top five recommendations in every category from Breastfeeding Sites to Urban Living Solutions.

Keep Those Bunnies Coming

A couple days ago we did something that
was either incredibly inspired or incredibly stupid.

We took both girls for well-baby visits at the same time.

Maddie was due for her 2-year check-up, so we scheduled it to
coincide with Cora’s 2-month visit. We had it all planned:
first Cora and I would go into the room, and I’d nurse Cora
after her shots to comfort her. Then Maddie and Daddy would come
in, and home we’d go. How did it go?


Let me say that we did everything in our
power to give Madeleine a happy visit. As many of you know,
she’s got a fear of band-aids due to her only receiving them
at the doctor’s office. We bought a box of Elmo band-aids and
spent the last few days talking about how cool they were, how fun
they are to wear. After she was allowed to put a band-aid on Gamma
and teddy, Maddie deigned to wear a band-aid and ended up sporting
two, both on completely healthy parts of her body. She walked
around staring at and talking to Elmo, and clearly thought they
were cool. So band-aid fear assuaged: check.

Then there was the fear of the doctor’s office itself.
Obviously, the older a child gets, the more she remembers her
previous visits and dreads the next one. But Madeleine seemed
pretty upbeat about the whole thing. We started talking a week ago
about how Maddie and Cora would be going to the doctor’s
office, and what the doctor would do. Fortuitously, Sesame Street
that day was all about the doctor and after Maddie saw a boy go on
Elmo’s World and Big Bird himself get a check-up, she was
interested. Out came Madeleine’s Check-Up Time Elmo and his
stethoscope. Endless rounds of temperature-taking,
boo-boo-checking, and heart-listening later, and Madeleine was
ready to play “patient” instead of Elmo. So Mommy
became the doctor and put Maddie through her paces, looking in her
eyes and ears and mouth and saying silly things like, “Maybe
the doctor will want to see you jump! Maybe the doctor will want to
see you pat your head!”

Which means that by the time the day came around, Madeleine was
looking forward to it. The night before, Maddie said,
“Yesterday I went to the zoo. Today I went to church.
Tomorrow I get to go to the doctor’s! Oh boy!” I could
only hope she’d still feel that way when we got there.

Even after walking into the office Madeleine was ok – all the
“new” toys caught her eye. The meltdown started as soon
as we got into the exam room. She took one look around and you
could see on her face: “Hey, I remember this place!
It’s not fun! It’s freakin’ scary!” But she
didn’t melt down until we tried to get her undressed.
Panicked screaming started coming out of her mouth as she climbed
me like a monkey to avoid being put down. As soon as she began
crying, Cora figured something was wrong and started screaming her
head off. And away we go.

In my defense, they wouldn’t let us split the girls up; the
office wanted to weigh and measure both at the beginning and keep
them undressed for the doctor to see. So our “divide and
conquer” strategy didn’t work out. But it took twenty
minutes to get Madeleine weighed and measured, and then only
happened because I climbed on the scale with Maddie in my arms,
then by myself, to figure out how much she weighed. In order to
measure her height, I had to resort to bunny bribes: we’d
brought the organic cinnamon bunnies we give Maddie for
“owies”, knowing she’d need them. I started
doling out bunnies like dime bags: one bunny if she’d take
her pants off. Two bunnies if she’d stand in front of the
measuring stick. And so on. Cora wouldn’t stop screaming
until I nursed her, so I kept feeding her for a couple minutes at a
time: enough to stop her crying but not so much that she’d
get full and not want to nurse after her shots. Which meant that
Cora kept breaking into “song” every ten minutes or so.

We were left in the room by ourselves for a good ½ hour,
which gave Maddie time to calm down. She and Daddy played games
while I juggled Cora, and I thought perhaps we were past the worst
part. And then the doctor came in the room.

Our doctor is a very cool, friendly woman who is used to making
kids cry. To my daughter’s credit, she didn’t start
crying until the doctor looked in her ears, and then she
couldn’t contain her fear any more. Which of course kicked
Cora off again.

“So,” the doctor shouted calmly, “any concerns or
questions you want to bring up about Maddie?”
“Yes,” I screamed back, “should we keep her on
whole milk or move her to 2%?” Really not the ideal
circumstances for a well-baby chat, but it was all we had.

The worst moment of the whole day was drawing Maddie’s blood.
Three people had to tie off the vein, hold her down, and stick her
with the needle as her screams spiraled up ever higher. I was stuck
in my chair nursing Cora, and so the awful duty of looking your
child in the eye and refusing to stop her pain fell to my husband.
My hero.

Finally Maddie was finished and she and Brian left to play while
the doctor examined Cora and did her shots. Thirty seconds after
they left the room I could hear her laughing in the play area and I
marveled at her resiliency. After the visit we all went for pizza,
and on the way back to the car Maddie said, “I went to the
doctor today. It was fun!”

Thank God for selective memory. Wish I had it too.

Both girls still bear physical witness to their visits – the
band aids. Madeleine’s hard-won Elmo band-aid still sits
bravely in the crook of her arm, and she proudly showed it to Naomi
the next day at the park. And Cora’s got her own Elmo
band-aid on her leg as well: when Maddie saw the puncture wounds on
baby sister’s legs, she said, “She’s bleeding!
She needs an Elmo band-aid!” Her generosity and unselfishness
– as well as her empathy, thinking the band-aid would make
Cora feel better the way it made her feel better – moved me.

Fortunately, Maddie’s finished with doctor visits for another
year. Unfortunately, Cora has to go back in another two months.
Sounds like a good time for a sitter.


Post a Comment

House Rules

Here are the rules for posting comments on 1mother2another.com. Posting a comment that violates these rules will result in the comment’s deletion, and you’ll probably be banned from commenting in the future.

1) Register first. If you would like to post a comment, you must create an account with us. Check out the home page to do so.

2) Constructive comments only. If you cannot maintain a respectful tone in your posting, even in disagreement, your comment will be deleted. We’re all trying to find our way in this thing and are struggling to be the best moms we can. If you disagree with something I say, feel free to politely email me. If you disagree with another reader’s posting, you’re welcome to kindly post in reply. Vitriolic diatribes will be deleted. This site is about encouraging and supporting, not tearing down and chastising.

3) Questions welcomed. If an entry raises a question, you’re welcome to email me directly or post it. Keep in mind that postings will result in public replies by strangers and not just me.

4) Don’t steal. All original writings contained within this website are under copyright protection. If you link to us, please credit us as your source and provide a link back to our website. If you're interested in using an excerpt in published material, please contact us.

5) Share your photos! We'd love to have photos from our registered readers to show on our home page under "Maddie's friends". Email us a jpeg of your little one's best photo to photos@1mother2another.com. Please, no photos from professional photographers which fall under copyright protection.