I Get Kinda Cranky When Lectured.

I get that I don’t dress like a professional. Hell, so much of my wardrobe consists of “stuff that’s comfortable and reasonably hides my misshapen form, but who am I kidding, really?” that “style” seldom enters the equation. I work from home, I shuttle kids around, and I’m overweight and don’t wear make-up. I’m also horrible at managing to keep legs and pits shaved, hair colored, chin waxed, cooter washed (just seeing if you’re paying attention) and nails neat-looking simultaneously. I can typically manage one or two of those things, but it’s never, ever all in sync unless I have somewhere work-related to be or a wedding to attend.

Anyway, this was my second visit to our new pediatrician, and let’s just say, I wasn’t happy with how things went. Well, I was very happy about the answers I received about Nolan’s health and well-being (short answer: not anemic, weight/height are normal and, while on the lower end of the curve, nothing to worry about, and the dark circles under his eyes are likely due to allergies, and his eyes seem to be experiencing an allergic reaction–allergy drops to the rescue, case closed).

But the rest of the conversation consisted of her lecturing me in response to my concerns without once first asking what I know or am already doing at home. And to be honest, that pissed me off. I have a graduate degree and I write about parenting for a living. I’ve also read a book or two and surround myself with experienced, wise moms whose opinions I trust. I have over nine years under my belt as a parent, six of which have been discovering the needs of a child with a unique disposition. I might be a spaz and a bit of a slob, but I’m neither inexperienced nor stupid.

So maybe my unkempt appearance and the fact that No. 1 son was wearing a Mario t-shirt while the two oldest boys took turns playing their DS so I could talk to the doctor with all three kids present gave her the impression that I’m some kind of poor example, I don’t know.

First, I was advised to immediately eliminate all video games because they’re addictive, without any questions about how often the boys play or what sorts of games they play (E for everyone). I told her during the school year, they’re allowed a couple of hours on weekends, and during the summer, I indulge them on very hot or rainy days. She countered by saying–hang on to your tampons, girls–that kids can do OTHER THINGS when it’s hot outside, like go to the pool or play in the sprinkler. Really? Garsh, ya think?

I do get that–I was, and in some ways am, pretty against video games because I do believe they are addictive. They were introduced to my kids against my express wishes (something the doctor confessed had happened to her too! I didn’t get the chance to ask her how she responded), and like the Democratic party, i was too much of a pussy to take a stand and simply say no, we’re not doing that until the kids are older. But I have grown to see the positives from gaming, like the boys’ interest in the Olympics after playing an Olympic-themed game. But while I worry about its addictive nature, I thought about it on the drive home: both my mom and dad have strong addictive tendencies, and it’s no surprise that I do, too. I never had video games and yet those addictive tendencies still manifested themselves. So I think that instead of killing Mario the messenger, the real thing to do is continue to teach moderation instead of unplugging everything at this point. Maybe some of you reading will still think I’m not only a pussy, but a bad mom, but I honestly don’t know that taking an extreme stance now that the bell’s already been rung is the best way to go (unless we’re talking a response to abuse or something). I’ll direct them toward moderation and continue hoping for the best.

The next bit of advice concerned something Nolan does when he gets really upset, something I’m not comfortable sharing but the story can continue regardless. Once again, without asking what it is that I do, I received more advice: “Don’t tell him he shouldn’t feel that way, but rather express how sad you’d feel, and ask him what he means by those remarks.” Of course, this is already what I do! I have to keep stopping typing so I can shake my fists, I swear. I’ll try gritting my teeth instead.

Then, on diet. I mentioned that Nolan has always been a meal-skipper, but that this has never worried me, though it worries some of our family members (aka, the grandmas, whose job it is to both worry and over-feed, I get that, I really do). While the doc confessed to not knowing much about Sensory Processing Disorder, she did clue in right away that he might have a problem with certain textures and food combinations. Roger that. But I pointed out that he eats a decent variety of foods, including fresh produce, and when he skips a meal, he tends to eat more at a subsequent meal–which I’ve read and heard is normal, that kids listen to their bodies better than adults and tend to catch up and get what they need throughout the balance of the week. She said that our job as parents is to offer healthy food choices, and their job as kids is to decide whether or not to eat. Totally agree (and of course: ALREADY KNEW THIS). Then she suggested–are you sitting down?–that I offer HEALTHY FOODS when he skips dinner and is hungry at breakfast the next day. Srsly? For realz? HEALTHY FOODS? You mean, only one Mountain Dew with their daily box of Twinkies, right? My God, that had never occurred to me! I told her what I typically offer (yogurt, yogurt smoothies, healthy granola bars, hard boiled eggs, scrambled eggs, oatmeal, peanut butter toast) and she said all of those were great. Then she said to never offer pancakes or waffles and I once again disagreed, because I think that having those foods is okay on occasion, but not every day, and she disagreed, saying she never eats pancakes or waffles for breakfast.

It was right then that my head exploded.

I sit here, a headless body, trying to type without eyes while compulsively shaking my fists. I was only comforted hours later as Jackson confessed that when he took Aaron to the restroom while Nolan was with me getting his bloodwork done, that Aaron left a little ball of poo on the bathroom floor and neither of them picked it up. This brought a slowly spreading, malevolent and satisfied smile to where my face would have been.

I’m going to try the other doctor in this practice, and if that doesn’t work out, I’ll go back to the guy who made the wisecracks about “Mexican kids,” because while that made my head spin around and about pop off, at least he, you know, listened to me and he didn’t have a complete cow when one of the kids played with the stirrups on the exam table like Dr. Assvice did.

There. I think I’m done now. I have another rant about how people deal with Nolan, but I’ll save that one for later.

Filed under La Familia, Parenting, The Pups | Comments (10)