This week marked a first for me as a mother: I was kicked out of the pediatrician’s exam room.
To be fair, I wasn’t exactly “kicked out” – the doctor gently suggested that I might want to wait outside while he completed Cameron’s physical. And to be even fairer, the hubs told me not to go in with him in the first place. He thinks that at 12 years old, a boy can handle a doctor’s appointment all on his own.
And he’s probably right, but in my own defense Cam had never seen the doctor by himself before and seemed a little apprehensive at the thought. When I asked him if I should go in the room with him or stay in the waiting area, he rolled his eyes and said “whatever” which everyone knows is code for “please come with me mommy!”
So I followed my gut feeling and went in with him – at least until it was drawer-dropping time, then I followed Dr. M’s suggestion and made myself scarce.
Because no one wants to see that.
While I was in the hallway the nurse went by and smiled understandingly. “Got kicked out, huh?” Then she told me something that made me feel even better about my decision to tag along on Cam’s appointment – because of federal privacy laws there’s not a lot the doctor can share with parents about his private conversations with their kids. “Go in for as long as they’ll let you get away with it,” she advised.
Not that I’m nervous that Cam is doing anything that he would share with a doctor and not us. He’s an incredibly responsible kid who has never been in trouble and has yet to have much contact with the opposite sex. But I’d be a pretty stupid parent not to keep and my eyes and ears open as much as possible.
Plus, it gives me a legitimate reason to keep that last remaining strand of the apron string intact. Because I have to tell you – that’s something I’ve really been struggling with. How in the world did my little baby boy get this old already? How did those 12 years fly by so fast? How is it that’s he’s already passed the five-foot mark and every single day gets closer to the moment when he’ll rest his chin on the top of my head and laugh at how short his mom is?
Wow, that last thing really got to me. Give me a second.
Mmmmmmmm…..okay, I’m back. That may have been my first mid-blog melt down.
There are many things new parents are told that are complete crap. Like waking up a perfectly happy, sleeping baby to ensure they stay on a “schedule” (insane), that your baby will surely come down with a horrific disease if anyone sneezes within a square mile of him (calm down already), that you should ignore your toddler’s tantrums because they’re just “testing their limits” (oh hell no).
But the one thing that’s the God’s honest truth is that it will all go by faster than you ever imagined. You will (almost) literally blink and your baby will morph from a sweet, squishy bundle of joy wrapped in a blanket to a tall, lanky, sometimes smartass almost-man standing in his boxers in the doctor’s office, happy to have you nearby, but looking relieved when the doctor throws you out.