I think I may love our new pediatrician.
We recently switched branches because our old location merged with another and I hate the new location.
Not only is my new one closer, but it’s practically next door to where the kids attend Mother’s Day Out.
The coolest thing by far, is the new doctor we have.
We visited him twice in the last two days. Monday, because The Tackler complained about ear pain (his ears looked perfect), and Tuesday for Lil Diva’s two year well check. And shots.
Complete with the well check comes a stack of paperwork for you to fill out, mostly questions about things your child does and does not do.
The last page was about your child’s diet, asking you to estimate how many servings of this that and a pile of other things about your two year old’s eating habits.
I had no idea what to write. Some days she lives off of cereal and cheese, other days she inhales fruit. Sometimes she grazes and barely touches her food, other days she out eats her brother. Vegetables that are not carrots are almost unheard of. And could I could peanut butter as a meat?
I informed the front desk we were in a hurry because the kids had school in thirty minutes, but if they ran “on time” we should make it no problem. Miracle of miracles, we were ushered in quickly. The nurse measured my daughter (she’s pretty much 50% for everything across the board) and told me the doctor would be right in.
I’ve heard that song and dance before.
But Lil Diva had only been undressed about twenty seconds when the doctor entered. I had not even completed the final form about eating.
He grinned, putting the kids at ease, high fiving them and shaking my hand.
I handed him the clip board.
“I didn’t get a chance to complete the last form.” I said, preparing myself for the lecture on how unbalanced her diet was at this age.
He shook his head, ripped the form from the stack and crumpled it into a little ball. “Don’t bother. I have no idea why they have you fill these out for two year olds. It’s way too young.”
He could not have shocked me more if he’d offered free medical care.
Because most doctors don’t say things like that.
Then he smiled when The Tackler somehow removed one of the blood pressure cuffs off the wall and ripped the paper from the exam table – not a hint of irritation to be found.
Yeah, I think I love our new pediatrician, who knows that kids are kids.