#AtoZChallenge: ‘D’ is for Doctor

Like any little kid, Baby Girl likes talking about what she wants to be when she grows up, and she wants to be a doctor. Occasionally she’ll mention being an ice cream man or a storybook writer, but mostly she talks about being a doctor. She’s had a not so low-key obsession with doctors for a long time now. While everyone else I know dreads going to the doctor, the girl lives for it and often creates reasons to go. “Oh, I’ve got a boo-boo! Call an ambulance!”

If Baby Girl were able to leave the house by herself and drive, she’d probably have a restraining order by now.

The girl gets ticked off anytime the rest of us have to go to the doctor and don’t take her along, and she asks a million questions when we get home. There’s always a little bit of hope in her voice that maybe something will be badly wrong with us, because that means more visits, more procedures, and more deets to share.

I think all of this is adorable, of course. Even more adorable is her in her doctor’s scrubs for Halloween.

She has quite the collection of toy doctor tools, and she even has a few real things, courtesy of an EMT who took interesting in BG at a restaurant one day and gave her a tour, hooked her up to an EKG, the whole nine yards. Baby Girl was in heaven that day.

One thing Baby Girl likes to learn about is body parts. She’s very interested in the different organs and their functions. You might be thinking, “Smart kiddo!” but know that her interest doesn’t stop with her little body parts doll she got for Christmas.

She’s also very interested in where babies come from. She’s three, y’all. I gave her a sciencey rundown, and she later asked my husband where she was before she got in my belly. He told her that she was in Heaven with God. This freaked her out because she associates that with being dead. She brought it up with me again later, and I talked to her about starting out as an egg in my ovaries, which went over much better…

And then, of course, she wanted to see the ovaries and find out how all this went down. I showed her an awesome YouTube video (you can see it at the end of this post), and she has watched it at least a dozen times. She’s absolutely enthralled.

Then the next big question came:

I didn’t want to tell her about vaginal delivery. That’s just too much right now. I don’t care if she educates her classmates on the rest of it, but I really don’t want anyone calling me because Baby Girl talked about pushing a baby out of one’s vajayjay. (And she’d use the correct term, of course, but I’m not.)

Instead, I told her about C-sections. She was born via C-section, so that worked. She was fascinated with that, which made me kind of scared…how long before I wake up in the middle of the night with her trying to perform surgery? It was like the time Little Man got super interested in organs, too, namely the heart. He talked about wanting to hold a beating heart in his own hands one day, so I didn’t sleep for a while.

Yesterday (we’re not blasting too far to the past for this one), the attempted C-section happened, but I wasn’t injured in the process.

We were hanging out playing doctor with her stuffies when stuck one under my shirt.

Oh lord.

She took her toy doctor scissors and pretended to cut open my belly along the area where my actual C-section stitches are.

And then it was time for Pete the Cat to be delivered.

We then repeated the process many more times before she decided that I should be her nurse and give all of her stuffies their flu shots.

Thanks for joining me for the April A to Z Challenge! If you’re participating, please leave a link in the comments section so I can check out your post.

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Please Stop Talking, Little Man

Before I get into the post, I hope everyone had a nice Christmas and New Year! Ours went well, although the house still hasn’t quite recovered from the Christmas presents tornado. We’re getting there, though. The day after Christmas, I got some great news — after initially being denied for my cochlear implant by the insurance company, it was approved after my doctor talked to them. Yay! Surgery is a little over two weeks away.


And now for the post.

Taking Little Man to the doctor always gives me anxiety. Always. It’s not so much that I’m worried about something being wrong with him so much as I’m worried about what he’s going to say. (Considering that this is coming from someone with an anxiety disorder who gets on WebMD way too much, this is saying something.) He has quite a knack for saying bizarre (although sometimes hilarious) things and for making us sound like we’re coming in dead last for the Parents of the Year Award.

This post has a few of his little moments…

Dammit, Little Man, you had half of a burrito! A burrito! I can see where a four-year-old might get the two words confused, but still, that is significantly more food than half of a stinking chip. And it was your choice to only eat half of your burrito, by the way.

This one was also when he was four, but he still believes this. Despite telling me about dreams and grumbling over being woken up, he still believes that he doesn’t sleep at night. No amount of telling him that he’s asleep when I check on him will sway him. He has recently started talking about getting up at 3 AM to walk around during the Devil’s Hour to see if there’s anything evil happening. As someone with insomnia, I can tell you that’s not happening, either.

So, is that why you beg me to take you to McDonald’s three times per week, because you’re about that healthy lifestyle? I don’t think so. But thanks for making it sound like all I do is feed you kids junk food.

Oops, I have a double arm. Not fixing it.

He told the optometrist that he was certain about having X-ray vision, by the way. This was a few months ago. The optometrist didn’t push the matter.

The doctor about hit the ceiling and so did I. He left with a lecture and a printout of about a dozen pages on the dangers of smoking. We got home and I pulled up pictures and videos of lungs, cancer, etc. to scare him. He later said it was just a joke. As he would say now, “Ya got trolled, bro!” (Thanks, YouTube.)

The assistant assured him that everything was clean, but he still narrowed his eyes and gave her a suspicious look. He later questioned why they put books and magazines in the exam rooms and suggested that they just wanted to make people sicker. I’ve often wondered that myself, especially at pediatric offices where toys are available for the kids to play with.

Little Man has a hangup over restrooms. This has led to certain health issues that I’m not going in to here for his privacy, but those health issues aside, his commentary was pretty funny. After discussing some things, Little Man went on a rant about public restrooms. He hates them. I get this, because I hate them, too, but usually you wouldn’t expect that from a little boy.

Suggestions to line the toilet seat or to clean it with Lysol wipes weren’t well received.

He also lines the toilet seat at home. Thankfully he skips lining the floor.

I think you might be contributing to the problem, kid.

This was to a new specialist he saw a couple weeks ago. My husband took him to this appointment and said that she didn’t skip a beat.

What embarrassing thing has your kid said at the doctor’s office?

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