We arrived to a fairly deserted office and waited the customary half-hour before someone came to get us. We were the last appointment of the day, so all of the assistants had that "Can we go home now?" demenor. As usual, we were escorted into the examining room where we started to undress Lauren. Being the astute little girl that she is, Lauren figured out where this was heading and started freaking out, yelling, "PANTS ON! PANTS ON!" over and over again.
After the assistant asked us the same questions that she asks every appointment, we headed back out to the hall so that she could measure and weigh Lauren. Now that she's walking, you would think that they could do this with her standing up, but no, Mark had to lay her down on the scale where she screamed and flailed like she was auditioning for a starring role in "The Exorcist: Meet the Terrible Twos". The assistant wrote down some numbers as we headed back into the examining room to wait for the doctor.
Mark got Lauren to calm down by reading her a book. Being the "in touch" mother that I am, I started to gently explain to Lauren that a very nice man named Dr. Butler was going to be coming in to just ask her a few questions and...well, I didn't quite get to finish describing the fine doctor's positive points because Lauren started screaming "NO! NO! PANTS ON! PANTS ON!" again.
A few minutes later, Dr. Butler made his dramatic entrance, which was greeted by the hysterical screams of our daughter. He suggested that I take her outside and walk her around a bit until she calmed down. Not one to question a professional opinion, I carried Lauren out the door where she proceeded to frantically pace up and down the hallway wearing nothing but a diaper, sobbing "NO! NO! PANTS ON! PANTS ON!" Thinking I could distract her, I took Lauren over to the reception desk, but, knowing that she had the upper hand, she soundly rejected my peace offering of a Blue's Clues sticker. One of the assistants noticed my plight, and instead offered a pretzel rod. Ordinarily, Lauren would have been all over that salty, crunchy snack, but since this was no ordinary tantrum, she refused it. I politely thanked the assistant and took the pretzel anyway, in case the demons possessing her little body got hungry later.
Luckily, Lauren started asking for her doll Lita, so that gave us an excuse to go back into the examining room to get her. Thinking that my child was doomed to be a social outcast, I asked Dr. Butler if her extreme reaction was normal. He said, yes, some kids are fine at this age, but others, the ones that are more aware of what's going on around them and remember what's going to happen, tend to freak out. That's a relief - she may be a social outcast, but at least she's smart.
The demons must have been getting tired, because Lauren stopped squirming long enough for the doctor to listen to her heart and check her pelvis. As he left the room, Lauren waved to him and said "Bye, bye! See you later!"
And that was that.
As for the pretzel rod, Lauren, once again wearing her pants, sat happily on the steps leading up to the doctor's office and enjoyed every last bit.
After that ordeal, Mark and I were starving, so we headed to Tomato Pie in North Park. We had the best item on the menu - Dipositano Pizza.
Knowing that we owed it to her for causing her such emotional trauma, I suggested that we stop and let Lauren play at one of the playgrounds. Needless to say, demons must have an aversion to playgrounds, because they were nowhere to be seen during our stay.
After we left, I insisted that we stop at McDonald's for a Minty Mud Bath. Every McDonald's in town in pushing this milkshake as part of their Shrek 3 promotion. It's quite tasty, in a minty, chocolately sort of way, but unfortunately, I didn't get to enjoy it all. A mother's guilt will always override the cravings of the stomach, so when she asked I, of course, let Lauren have mine.
364 days to go until her next check-up!
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