Wednesday, September 21, 2011


This morning I took Bethany and Connor to the doctor for a check-up. Bethany is going to be starting basketball soon, and needed a physical in order to play. Neither of them have been for a well visit in quite awhile, so I figured I might as well get this over with.

I guess I'm kind of an idiot. I think of everything in terms of "how long is this going to take me?" and "what is going to be the easiest way for me to do this?", and I need to remember that sometimes I need to use some common sense instead. At 10 and 8, Bethany and Connor would rather not go for check-ups at the same time, in the same room. Duh. They had to get undressed and put on paper robes. Bethany was sobbing. I made each of them turn around while the other was changing, but they were both uncomfortable. Bethany would rather see a female doctor. Duh. There are at least five or six women doctors at the practice we go to, so this is not a big deal. But I took the first appointment I could get at the time I needed, and it happened to be with a male doctor. I just wanted to kill two birds with one stone and not have to make two separate trips to the office, and get it done as soon as possible. So... I didn't think of these details - minor to me, major to them. After the tears I felt like a giant turd, then Connor was giving me looks of death. I was doing everything I could to make them laugh and cheer them up, and I think they were fine by the time I dropped them off at school, but I really should have thought that through a little better.

Anyway, when the nurse did the weighing and measuring we found that Bethany is tenuously holding onto a 1 pound and 1/2 inch advantage over Connor. Since they were about one and a half and three, people have been mistaking them for twins. I wonder how soon it will be before Bethany's little brother is towering over her.

From the time Bethany, Connor, and Lucy could stand up on their own, we used to measure them on a piece of molding in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room at our old house. Oh my gosh it makes me crazy sometimes that we didn't rip that molding out and bring it with us when we moved. All those pencil marks, measuring the growth of our babies...such a simple thing but I really wish we had it. When we were leaving the doctor's office this morning, I suddenly felt so melancholy, and thought of that piece of wood - a little tangible reminder that my kids really were little bitty once upon a time. I could cry thinking about it. 

Since it's driving me nuts knowing that those pencil marks are gone forever, it occurred to me that I could try to re-create the measurements. Buried in boxes and files and baby books around the house, I have lots of slips of paper from well visits to the pediatrician through the years, papers that note height and weight. I'm thinking about compiling them and making a sort of growth throughout the years chart. We can start new, in our new house. (never mind we've lived here for over two years...)

1 comment:

Tina Marie said...

I think you should do it! The kids will love having it and adding to it!