Friday, September 24, 2010

A not so fun big girl's wellness visit to the doctor


This past Monday, the 20th, was Isabella's appointment with her pediatrician. For her 4th birthday wellness check. Ugh.

Wait, let me back up. Prior to that day, she seemed fine about her impending doctor's visit. She talked about her appointment as a matter of fact. With the same sort of tone, she also talked about anyone, including me, having to visit the doctor for a wellness check after having a birthday. She even talked about what would happen at the doctor's visit: listening to the heart, checking the ears, checking the back of the throat, getting shots. All seemed well. Until the day of the appointment.

The look of fear in her eyes and in her body language. Poor girl.

She was asked to do big girl stuff at this appointment that took me by surprise. Like pee in a cup. She was so scared, I couldn't get more than a few drops out of her; that came back with skiddish results. Everything from getting her height mentioned to having her lungs checked freaked her ought; her body was visibly shaking and she was on the verge of tears at any moment. Then she got three immunizations: a booster shot for the MMR, an updated pneumococcal (sp.?) vaccination, and a flu shot.

The first two of those shots ended up making her feel miserable. "Mommy, my legs hurt a lot," I heard from about an hour after the shots, extending to the next two days. Then, she was barely walking and anything involving raising her legs (such as climbing stairs or getting in her chair). Never having experienced this sort of response from getting immunized, I called the doctor's office. Quite worried.

Give her Children's Motrin or Children's Tylenol ASAP. That's it? That's all you have to say, no questions to ask, when my child can't get in chairs or walk well because of the shots?! Where's the care or compassion? Why didn't you ask for more information?

She ended up being fine a couple of days later. But, the poor girl never wants to go back to the doctor's office. Can anyone blame her?

Friday, September 03, 2010

Words that begin with...


My older daughter, who's three and nearing four, has been doing the following for a little while; and I've been observing with smiles on my face. "Isabella" begins with "i." Mommy's name begins with "l." Daddy's name, Troy (she'll say his name but I don't think she's familiar with mine), begins with "t." "Victoria" begins with "v." And today, she said, "Valerie" also begins with "v." Well done, my little preschooler!

No fear, no hands

Just over a couple of weeks ago, the most Victoria would grace a slide was to climb the ladder and that's it. What can I say? I'm raising a couple of children who tend after me in caution. Victoria isn't quite as cautious as her older sister, but, she still has my genes.

Then a couple of weeks ago tomorrow, we were at the Children's Museum, which we have frequently, oh, I've lost track just how many times, and my younger one spotted a disguised slide in the 5 yrs and under play area. The slide is dressed as a tree stump and a little grassy hill, if I remember correctly. She found that a riot and kept going down that over and over again.


She seems to have lost her shyness around slides since that time. Today is a case in point.

Here she climbs, but this isn't anything new. Yet.


Oh, oh, oh, we're past just sitting at the top. We're sliding. See? We're smiling, and no hands.

No hands, no hands. And here. We. Go!

Va voom. We're having loads of fun.

Good job, Victoria. Yayyyyyyyy!

Wednesday, September 01, 2010

Little ones, oh little ones, oh the places you go!

Sometimes I wonder, ponder, ruminate how it is that I can get so worn out. After all, it's the little monkeys who are doing all the moving, shaking, rattling. Right? Wrong. That's only part of the story.

When we're out together, whether as a family or mommy with the girls, each daughter is constantly asking me to engage with them - by interacting with them physically or identifying what they are doing (who knew charades would be a part of parenting, unintentionally?). Sometimes, running to multiple places in a short period of time does it. Or perhaps multitasking with little ones plays a role.

This past weekend, we went to Westlands Park, where the girls and other children had opportunities to play in and with water; and this opportunity is days from ending for the season.


The time, for the girls, flew by, skipped by, disappeared.


Two hours later, when we announced it was time to go - first with a 5 minute warning, then a 1 minute warning (my girls do not like to be surprised when it's time to leave an activity they're thoroughly enjoying) - they acted as if they had just begun to play.

Remember girls, that mommy remembered to give you snacks in enough time, before the hungry grouchiness set in. And remember, we made sure you got home before your lunch hunger and physical weariness from play set in.

Then Sunday morning, before church, we bade farewell to another fun activity - the Denver Zoo. Our membership's up at the end of August, and we weren't planning on renewing, for now. The things we do for our children. The zoo opens at 9 am. It's a half an hour drive to the zoo from home. We had roughly an hour at the zoo before zipping off- at the speed of lightning - to church.

Found a brand spankin' new, baby giraffe, that wasn't there last week. See?

Also spent more time doing what the girls really wanted to do. When left to their own devices, so much time is spent doing other than animal gazing. Time is spent . . .

looking at flashing neon signs,

and pretending to eat

and climbing. What appears to be onlooking interest or search for creatures, is really just a desire to climb. To examine one's physical strength and stability.

And copying big sis'.

But, there were animals that Isabella was eager to see, up close. Flamingos. She remembered the flamingo walk from last week.

She wasn't interested in seeing bears, rhinoceros, hippos, or elephants. Flamingos. Flamingos. She said it often and consistently. Just in case we had unreliable short term memories. Just in case we weren't listening the first million times she shared with us her desire. To see flamingos.