The vitals

Max's two year appointment was today, and let's just say it did NOT go well. He's never been particulary bad at the doctor's (nor has he been particularly good), but today he was just awful.

And yet it started out so well. I had taught him the word "doctor" and it was fun to watch him call anyone who came out of the office a "doctor." The people sitting in the waiting area were giggling at him. It was just too cute.

But then when the doctor did come (actually the nurse) and tried to weigh Max, all hell broke loose. I don't know how a 2 year old boy can possibly realize that hopping on the scale is a painful experience (at least it is for me and many other women), but Max knew. He just knew. And he refused to get on that scale. The nurse and I tried every gimmick in the book to no avail, and so as a last resort, we weighed Max and myself together and then myself and subtracted to see the difference (and boy, do those doctor's scales lie! I swear I was 5 pounds heavier there than I am at home!). The result: Max weighs 29 pounds, which is exactly average. We went through the same experience to get his height--he just refused--and at one point the nurse said, "you push the knees against the wall and I'll get the head." The result: Max is 33 inches, just a little shorter than average.

We then had to take his blood pressure, and that did not work at all. The poor nurse just quit. It was impossible to get an accurate reading with Max wailing the way he was.

When we met with the actual doctor, Max was still very frightened, but did a little better. The doctor seemed impressed with Max's language development (the kid knows probably 300 or more words and is speaking in 2-3 word sentences including, "try it," "bye/hi _____," "there/here it is," etc.), but wants us to get Max on a vitamin since he is so inconsistent with his eating, and since he is taking to vegetarianism like his mom (and I don't try to make him be vegetarian--I offer him meat, but he just doesn't eat it).

He did ok with the shots and I got him to stop crying by getting him to examine his band-aid.

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In other news, Max knows his books. I just finished reading stories to him, and he is officially starting to fill in the parts he can say. He's known his books for a while in the sense that he knows what actions to anticipate (and he does them), but the past week or so he has been saying things right before I say them. I think that's sorta smart!