Confessions from a mother after a 4 yr. old checkup

Today was Peyton's 4 year checkup with Dr. Cope. It did not start out too well.

Last night I told Peyton all about our trip. I even talked to him about shots. He didn't seem bothered. I taught him how to say, "Hi Dr. Cope!" and promised a prize if he did it at the visit. I thought all was well until I got him out of the car at the dr. office.

We were within feet of the door, he nearly froze in place. He tried to get me to carry him. I couldn't believe it. I got down on his level and told him that he was "big strong" and he could go inside like a big boy. He reluctantly followed me in.

We signed in and went into the waiting room. Toy Story was on. Peyton was content. We were only in there a couple of minutes when they called us back. I hopped up and told him to come along. He followed me. Attached to my backside.

We got back to the weigh area and she decided to try to do the vision/hearing test first. That was a mistake. We went into this closet (which wasn't very inviting looking). He was clinging to me like sticky to a sucker. I asked her if he could sit in my lap. She said that was fine. The first step was to get him to look at the cards and identify the animals that were on it so that he would know what he was looking at when he looked into the eye machine. Peyton REFUSED to even look at these cards. I tried to bribe him. Didn't work. I started asking him to show ME where the bird was. He refused. The nurse tried. He refused. I threatened to leave him there alone. he refused. The nurse was getting frustrated. (Which seriously - he's four. I'm sure he's not the first to act like this). But come on, you know how you feel when your kid is acting like this in public! You feel like you have "THAT CHILD" and everyone is going to talk about you when you leave.

I tried to compose myself. And of course you can't raise your voice or really threaten your kid in the doctor office (not that I would do EITHER of those...cough cough), but I was getting frustrated. She asked if he had just turned four. I told her he did last week. She seemed to realize that this wasn't going to happen so she suggested we try to just move on to something else. I agreed.

So the next step was to pee in a cup. I thought this couldn't be too bad. I took the cup with Peyton in tow and we went into the bathroom. We had a TALK while we were in there. I asked him what was wrong and he said, "I'm scared." So then I felt like a total jack for trying to make him do something that scared him. We focused on trying to pee in the cup. he tried three times but just couldn't go. Of course he had just used the potty at home so I told him we'd try again after we finished everything else. We left the bathroom and I explained to the nurse what had happened, she seemed irritated again, but agreed we would do the next thing.

So she figured we would get his weight and height. Simple enough, right? NOT QUITE. Peyton has ALWAYS been afraid of the scale. And let me remind you, he is still clinging to me like gum in a child's hair. We walked over. I tried to pick him up to put him on the scale. he wrapped both of his legs around me and held on for dear life. I try to reason with him. We tried again. DISASTER. We tried again. DISASTER. We tried many times again, each ending with disaster. The nurse suggested putting him on the seated scale. I thought that sounded fabulous. But guess what? That weight limit was 35lbs. I knew Peyton was over 35lbs. The nurse was getting frustrated again. She suggested I hold him and then we could subtract my weight. I refused. The nurse was irritated again. (Turns out I'm terrified of the scale, too). She told me she was going to go and get help. I didn't know what that meant. She came back with another nurse. This nurse was super nice (and I wished had been our nurse from the moment we got there). She pried Peyton off of me and they both got on the scale. Peyton was screaming with fear but it didn't take long and she handed him back over. He weighed 42 lbs. Easy enough, huh?

So then they tried to get him under the height stick to see how tall he was. Guess what? He refused to stand there. So before we wasted any time trying to make him do something we all knew he wasn't going to do, we all headed to an empty room to measure him laying down. I put him on the table, he was SCREAMING, and two of us held him down while the other marked at his head and feet. It was pretty funny because one nurse told the other nurse that they would need two yardsticks because he's, "really tall!" I was beaming with pride (even though my child was being totally defiant). After measuring the lines, we determined his height to be 44".

Next up - finger prick. I figured this would top them all. They had me sit on the table with him in my lap. The second nurse was there for backup while the first nurse was planning to prick his finger. Surprisingly, he sat there unbothered. Only a small flinch from him when it happened. No tears, no fighting, no nothing.

Isn't this the part that you should have kids fighting against? What is wrong with my child?

We FINALLY made it into our room. Peyton was still clinging to me but he was definitely much happier. Dr. Cope got in pretty quickly and gave Peyton a good look over. He told me Peyton was 90% for weight and OFF THE CHART for height! Why does this make me so darn proud? It's not like we have any control over it but it makes me happy, nonetheless. Peyton gave him a high five. Things seemed to be okay. We talked briefly and he left. I started getting Peyton dressed.

The first nurse came in. It dawned on me that he might be getting shots. I asked her if he was getting shots. She told me he was getting three. THOSE WERE DREADED WORDS. How was he going to act?

I talked to Peyton about the shots. I told him that they were going to make him "super fast" and "super strong." He seemed to accept it. It took a while for the nurse to come in. This was the third nurse. She was really nice. Kind of quiet. I wasn't sure how he was going to act.

I laid him on the table and told him that he was going to get his "super fast" shots. I held down his arms. Shot one. He flinched but no tears. She followed quickly with the second shot. He wanted to cry. he was holding his breath. The last one was going in his shoulder. So she had him sit up and look at his spider man band aids. I told him he was already more super fast and super strong but he had one more. He seemed ok. I held his torso still while she gave him the third and final shot. He flinched and looked a bit scared but he got his band aid and seemed ok. After she left we put on his shoes and I told him how proud I was of him.

I opened the door and asked the nurse if we could try to pee in the cup again because Peyton said he wanted to. I took him in there and he did his job! We had to wait on the results and while we were waiting the first nurse came in with a huge tub of toys and let him pick out a prize (after she had already threatened that he would not get a prize for not doing the things at the beginning). he picked a yoyo. He was happy as a lark.

As we were leaving the nurse was in the hallway. I made Peyton apologize for being unruly at the beginning of the visit. He quietly said, "I'm sorry."

But, I'm sure we were the subject of discussion at the lunch table today. Surely I"m not the only one with a scared four year old. Thank goodness we don't have to do this again until he's five and he doesn't get shots again until he's 6. But sadly, we have to go back for the vision and hearing test in about three months.

I'm sending Trey.