My back is sweating because I’m nervous. When do I break the news to my three-year-old daughter Olivia she is getting shots? History has proven timing is everything. If I hit it right, a hug and a lollipop will keep the peace. If I miss the mark, that lollipop could end up right between my eyes. Not to mention the snow-ball effect Olivia’s meltdown could have on her two siblings, who (by the way) unbeknownst to them, are getting shots as well. I take a couple of deep yoga breathes to keep calm. These kids have a sick sixth sense about them; it is imperative I keep my cool.
“Hi everybody!” It’s Dr. Mac and we all can’t help but smile. He puts his laptop down and crouches to Olivia, who is beeming. “Is everyone good today?” Olivia nods her head. “Am I gonna check your ears today?” Dr. Mac tweeks Olivia’s earlobe and she pulls away laughing and Dr. Mac laughs too. “Okay Olivia, let’s get you on the table.” Olivia proudly walks up the step-stool and heaves herself onto the table. “All by yourself?” Dr. Mac exclaims. “Big girl!” Olivia looks at me shyly and I smile back, reaching my arm toward her with my hand in a fist. She does the same and we bump fists. It’s our family’s high five and even Dean, at six months, can do it.
I’m thinking about how lucky I am to have found Dr. Mac. I went through four pediatricians, one unbelievably worse than the next: from completely missing hip dysplasia in my daughter to telling me to “fatten up” my children — I am amazed these people practice medicine. Coming from a medical family I know doctors are fallible and I searched long and hard for a pediatrician I felt comfortable with. From the first time I met Dr. Mac I knew it was a perfect fit. No nonsense, professional, appropriately funny and genuinely kind and gentle with the children.
While Dr. Mac checks Olivia’s heart, ears, and throat, my son Duke is resting his hands on the exam table and standing on his tippy toes. At five years old, he is finally tall enough to see himself in the mirror above the exam table and he is stoked. Dean is sitting on the floor in front of my purse playing with a maxi-pad he’s found inside. I’m not taking it away because he’s quiet and happy and Dr. Mac is a doctor so he knows what a pad is. I smile and revel in this little victory of calm.
Dr. Mac is done with Olivia (no shots yet) and turns to a grinning Dean who is now putting the pad in his drooly mouth. How cute, I think, and lift Dean onto the examining table and take the pad from him. “Dean’s turn for heart, ears and eyes” Dr. Mac announces. I hold Dean with one hand on his chest and watch him as he smiles and ‘talks’ to Dr. Mac. I am amazed at how easy-going Dean is. I think it’s partly because he is number three and Mommy isn’t always “right there”, like I was with Duke and Olivia. Sometimes I feel guilty about that but it’s a reality of having three children I am slowly coming to terms with. This thought naturally brings me to my own mother, who had ten children. Nine girls and one boy. And just to up the ante my father left when my baby sister was born. He remained in the picture financially (sort of) and would come by weekly for dinner, take us on camping trips every year, but on a daily basis, my mother raised us. I am hoping her ability to make each and every one of us feel special has rubbed off on me. I smile at the thought.
I am brought back to reality and Dr. Mac’s exam by Olivia, who is saying in an outside voice, “Mom, There’s an ant on the floor!” Oh yes, there is, right near my purse. I step on it and say, that’s okay. They’ll vacuum tonight and it will be all gone. Dr. Mac agrees and we move on until Olivia announces another ant sighting in her loud authoritative proud voice. “Mom! Anuuuuuther One!” She is proud because it is usually Duke who spots the ants at our house, runs for toilet paper, catches them and flushes them down. This happens frequently because it’s summer and ants are common in the summer and (I have to be honest) the kids eat on the move and drop crumbs around the house. The few ants we should’ve had for a short time have turned into dozens and dozens of ants for a long time. But the doctor’s office is a different story, I’m betting: no ants allowed and I step on the second one Olivia has found. I start wondering where the heck did these things come from?
Dr. Mac finishes with Dean and leaves the room to get the shots he will give all three. But before he is completely out the door, Olivia has her third ant sighting, surprise surprise, right near my purse. Mom! Anuuuuuther Ant! She screams, laughing with excitement. Dr. Mac glances back at this new finding and tentatively walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. I stand cool until it’s just me and the kids and then I put Dean on the floor and grab my bag to find a napkin to kill the third ant and pick up the two dead ones. When I pick up my bag I see dozens of ants scurrying inside. A piece of bagel is covered black and a box of opened raisins is teeming. I yelp, drop the bag on the floor and jump backwards.
What happened? Duke yells.
What happened? Olivia yells.
Dean stares and grunts.
Nothing happened guys. Don’t worry. I say it casually but know it’s a no go.
“Mom, what happened?!” Duke says again.
“Mom, what happened?!” Olivia says again.
Dean gives another grunt.
My arm pits are itching like crazy, something that happens to me when I get extremely nervous, and my back is now a slip ‘n slide of sweat. And then I give in.
“There are a gazillion ants in my bag! We have to zip it up. Quick! Help me zip it up. Iw! Gross! Look at all these ants!” I can’t find a napkin anywhere so before I zip up the bag I grab the maxi-pad Dean has been playing with and start squashing the ants. The kids are jumping up and down, pointing each one out and screaming, ‘There’s another one!” and “There’s a gazillion of them!” This is as good as a water park, as far as they’re concerned.
When Dr. Mac walks in the room, there I am on my hands an knees – maxi-pad in hand – squashing a gazillion ants on the floor of his examining room. He stops, looks down at the ants, at me, pauses for about five seconds, and then says, Okay, who’s first? at which point I decide I truly love this man. I pick up Dean. “This little guy.” Dr. Mac picks up the first needle at which point I hear Olivia start to whimper. I hold Dean with one arm and wave her over. She puts her head between my knees and starts to cry. “It’ll only take a second honey. Everyone has to get them,” at which point Duke starts to cry. I wave him over and he rests his forehead on my butt and then the ants are just a fleeting memory in my wonderful life.
uppsalaanna 