Today I took my oldest two children—Mr. 12 and Miss. 10—to the doctor for their yearly physical.
The Good News
- Neither had been to the doctor since their last physical. The doctor likes to think it’s because they’ve been so healthy, but really it’s because I’m a cheap ass and don’t want to pay a twenty buck co-pay so they can tell me my child has a cold and there is nothing they can do about it.
- My son and daughter both grew two inches in height this year. Say YEAH! to TWO INCHES!
- It looks as if nature is rolling along at a steady pace and they will both, at some point, mature into adults. Whew. Sometimes I think they’ll be stuck at this pupa stage forever, but according to the doc, wings will be in our future. Thank you Jesus.
- Both my children exceeded the average weight gain for the year.
Like, by so much that to average out the weight gain they would have had to grow three additional feet taller. (I'm guessing here because you all know how much I suck at numbers.) The doctor told them he didn’t want them to gain anymore weight this year at all. Hang steady. Maintain. (And no, I’m not going to divulge the amounts here. If you’re family, you can call me.) I'm supposing that the doctor doesn't really care that my kids are part Italian and they can easily eat their weight in all products made from white refined flour and pasta sauce. This is probably not helpful information. Or a helpful diet for that matter.
He told the kids to cut out snacks, cut down on the amount they’re eating, and no more soda. That’s when my son passed out. No soda? For a pre-teen? Are you kidding? (But again, I was quiet about the pasta.)
The good news is that now I can institute all kinds of new eating habits and rules (that I was very good about enforcing once upon a time) and I’m not the bad guy. The doctor is. Which is fine with me because we see him once a year. I'm thinking that maybe my kids weren't at the doctor sick this year because they are hearty. Strong. A cold germ comes along and the energy they have stored in their tissue helps fight those cold germs off faster than thin, scrawny kids. I know, I know. Excuses, shmuses.
After the doctor’s office appointment I nixed the idea of taking the kids out for ice cream (which was my original plan, but even I couldn’t have lived with that guilt) and went to Walmart instead. Where my son asked for soda. Of course I didn't buy him one. I bought him Gatorade instead. That's a good compromise, right?
Tonight we had pizza for dinner. And fries.
I’m instituting our new meal rules and rituals tomorrow.
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