4 year old check-up (and a confession)

C and D had their 4-year-old physicals today. Here are the stats:

Cary
Weight: 32 lbs.
Height: 39''
BP: 94/61

Dean
Weight: 37 lbs.
Height: 41.5"
BP: 100/62

You read that right - they took their blood pressure this time and also did an eye exam and checked their ears, like big boys! We've come a long way from me bringing two blankets in to the doctor's office to swaddle them in because I was afraid their little preemie bodies wouldn't handle the cold air.

Health-wise, they're both just fine. We are slightly concerned about the way Cary pronounces certain words, and Dr. Bodnar had no explanation for it, so he suggested we seek out a speech therapy program at one of the local colleges. I think we might just do that. Other than that, no real issues.

This visit, however, was extremely trying. (Here comes my confession.)

Both boys acted pure FOOLS and I don't like either one of them very much right now. Cary especially is on my list.

He was SO naughty and obstinate and, it has to be said...assholish ... during the entire visit, I was really quite embarrassed. He wouldn't talk to Dr. Bodnar when he asked him questions, and instead made rude noises or sat with a smirk on his face, while flipping pages of a book or touching any and everything in the exam room. He grunted and pouted instead of using words. He rolled around the room on Dr. Bodnar's wheeled seat. He ran out the door in his underwear. He interrupted me or Dr. Bodnar over and over and over and over. He was such a royal brat, I was stunned.

Honestly, Cary generally has a problem with listening and doing what he's told, and he acts like an ass to people all the time. But I promise you he took it up a few notches today at the doctor. He was THAT kid -- you know the one. The one you see out in public and talk smack about his parents when you leave. The kid you swear your child will never turn out like.

Dean, on the other hand, was lovely and personable until it came time to get his immunizations.
Cary got his shots first, because he's the oldest, and he whimpered a little but didn't cry. It was over in a flash.

Then the nurse turned her needles on Dean and this child SCREAMED BLOODY MURDER AT THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS, SHRIEKED AND CLAWED AND CRIED LIKE SOMEONE WAS PULLING HIS FINGERNAILS OUT WITH PLIERS!!!

He performed so bad and screeched so loudly for such an extended period of time that my eardrums were ringing (longtime readers might remember that Dean has a VERY high-pitched wail. That has only strengthened over time. Believe me. He could shatter glass.)
When we were walking out, a mother with her two daughters said to me, "Were they in with Dr. Bodnar?" I said yes. She replied, "Oh good, I'm so glad to see they're alive. They sounded like they were DYING."

Please note that Dean screamed so much, so loud and so long, she thought there were two children causing such a horror show ruckus.

His theatrics were a bit embarrassing, and I was a little disappointed in how straight crazy he acted, but I know that fear is irrational, and shots do hurt, so I am not nearly as put out with him as I am his brother.

Folks, I am so over Cary's obnoxia. (I just made that word up.) It's bad at home, worse in public, and never as bad as I saw it today. I honestly want to stay at work now and come home after he's asleep just so I don't have to see him anymore today. It's that bad, people.

I put all this out here on the Interwebs, where there is sure to be judgment and side-eye-slinging, because I need for all of you parents of newborns and toddlers who think -- like I did -- that there's nothing your sweet, adorable, cuddly little child could EVER do to make it so that you could stay mad at them --- I need you to know that you are WRONG!

The day is coming, my dears. Oh, the day is coming.

Thank God tomorrow is another day.

1-year-checkup

The boys had their 12-month checkup today and before I tell you the results, I need to let you know that Lester and I had a bet about how much the boys weighed.

I said Cary weighed 21 lbs., and Dean weighed 24.5.
Lester said Cary weighed 22.5 lbs. and Dean weighed 24.

We were both wrong.

Cary weighs 19 lbs., 12 oz. and is in the 10th percentile for weight, but the 50th percentile for height.

Dean weighs 23 lbs., 8 oz. and is in the 60th percentile for weight and height.

Clearly, we both think our boys are heavier than they are. You try lugging two wriggly boys around with you! You'll think they both weigh a ton, too.

The doctor said both boys are awesome, which we already knew. And then he congratulated us on getting from the last check-up to this one without either boy having to come in for a sick visit. You know what this means, don't you? Now, someone (or both someones) is bound to get sick. Dang that doctor!!

The boys also got shots -- and it was awful. They both screamed bloody murder (especially Dean) and Cary looked so hurt and confused. I hate shots!
We also were told that one possible side effect of these shots is a really high fever and/or rash that appears 7 to 10 days after the shots were given.

This sucks because 10 days from today we are leaving the boys with my Mom and grandmother (Nana) and going to West Palm Beach for two nights. First couple's trip away from babies ever and there's a possibility of a raging fever and a rash?? Oy!!!

Pray for us, peoples.

Oh, and in other news: Kristie came over yesterday and said that CARY IS RELEASED from physical therapy! I'm not saying it with all-caps-emphasis because I'm excited about it; just because I can't believe it. My little floppy, sleepy preemie no longer needs services! Wow. When I told Lester, he had the exact same reaction I did, which was to say, "Awwww." Like sorta wistfully. Isn't that crazy? Why is it just the tiniest, tiniest bit sad that he's released? Any therapists out there who can explain this one to me?

Anyway, Kristie still will come by once a month to work with Dean, just because of his little turned-out foot, even though even she admits that he's doing just fine with standing and cruising and will likely self-correct when he starts walking. I'm glad she's still coming. She kinda has a little crush on my boys, and who can blame her? They're perfect, turned-out-foot and all.