how to take a wild animal to the doctors office

 You can tell that Katelyn was super cooperative in the taking of these photos.

Last week Katelyn had her fifteen month check up.  Ever since the doctor had to scrape some stubborn wax from her ear when she had an infection, Kate has been particularly wary of his office.  My mom actually had to remove her from the room last time so that I could hear what he was saying to me at the end of the visit.  Her reaction was so violent that when he passed her on his way out of the room, she screamed at him in passing.

This time my mom was out of town so I had to complete the visit myself.  It's alright.  Taking my child to the doctor without the help of my mom is one of those levels of motherhood I needed to complete anyway.

We got there half an hour early which really is inconvenient.  But I kind of have an anxiety when it comes to doctors and I am convinced that if you arrive early and are nicely dressed you will receive better treatment.  I like to show up to the doctor's office massively early and one step below church level fancy.

Kate didn't seem to mind.  The waiting room was the perfect location for people watching and watching people.  Kate loves to watch other people and she also loves other people watching her.  She spent her time alternately getting up in people's personal space to stare at them and parading around the waiting room like the beauty queen of the doctor's office.  At one point she was actually waving and blowing kisses.

"This is good," I thought.  "She has forgotten her traumatic 'Eargate' experience and is having a grand old time at the doctor's office."

When the nurse called us back, Kate happily charged on into the back hallway like the owned the place.  Instead of weighing her on one of the bucket baby scales, the nurse suggested that she stand on the regular scale like a big kid.  I figured that Kate would love that.  She has watched me weigh myself many, many times and we had even practiced a few times at home.  I was so proud of myself for being prepared.

Don't worry.  Kate made sure to knock me off my high horse pretty quick.

The nurse put a paper towel down on the scale and I took off Kate's shoes and placed her on the scale.  And then I had the nerve to let go of her hand.  She freaked out.  She collapsed in a heap while trying to scale my body at the same time.  She screamed so loudly that nurses from down the hall and at the front desk were craning their necks to witness the toddler meltdown at the big kid scale.

It only got worse.

We went into the room and decided that we would weigh Kate in the bucket scale.  Since she was already undressed and we had to walk back out into the hall to get to the scale, the nurse gave me a tiny little pediatric hospital gown for her.  Of course, Kate thought it was a dress and she went back to parading around like a fashion model.

However, her fashion show was short lived and soon anything the nurse did sent her into hysterics.  This poor nurse told me that she wasn't even in pediatrics and was only filling in for another nurse.  She put her stethoscope on and Katelyn screamed at her.  She tried to listen to Kate's heartbeat and was screamed at.  She washed her hands and was accosted by angry toddler screams.

By the time the doctor walked in, Kate had taken a moment to calm down.  She was back to marching around the room in her fancy gown.  When the doctor walked in, she carefully kept her distance but continued walking around as he and I were talking.  He asked me whether she had been weaned from the bottle and I had to answer honestly.  This girl loves her bottle.  A bottle is like a pacifier in our house.  It's calming and soothing and she needs one to get to sleep.  It's a serious habit.  I do try and limit it to nap time and bed time though.  As I was explaining this to the doctor, Kate thought of a new way to embarrass me.

As soon as the words "she only drinks from cups during the day" left my mouth, Katelyn found the bottle I had packed in case of the meltdown I was expecting and popped it into her mouth.  She then pranced around as if she knew the comedic timing of her actions.

Luckily, her doctor has a sense of humor.  "It's her emergency bottle," I sheepishly explained.  We both had a good laugh and then it was time to examine baby Kate.  I picked her up and put her on my lap and the moment she and the doctor made eye contact, she erupted into screams of terror.

I tried keeping her calm but the terror quickly turned into rage and the screaming only got worse.  Pretty soon, I thought to myself, "If she could talk, she would be swearing right now."  Seriously.  The volume and cadence of her voice in combination with the intensity of her screams made it sound like gibberish curse words.

Of course, the immunizations didn't help our situation.

By the time everyone left the room, Katelyn was covered in sweat from the struggle.  I was exhausted and felt unsure if I could muster enough strength to walk out to the car.  The worst part is I had to use the restroom.

Anyone with a toddler knows that there are a few rules of going to the bathroom that are quickly enforced when you have children.  One is that you will never be alone again.  Almost everything you do is a spectator sport to a toddler and using the restroom is no exception.  Don't even think about trying to lock them out.  They will find you.  The second rule is to never use a public restroom.  Parents and toddlers view everything from a different point of view.  To an adult, a public restroom is a breeding ground for germs, invisible feces, and other forms of general nastiness.  To a toddler, it is a magical wonderland of fun and excitement.  They are unsure why our mobility seems impeded by sitting on that porcelain hand splasher.  All they know is they've got a good chance of escape to lavatory freedom.  The last time I took Kate with me to a public restroom, she crawled under the stall.

I couldn't hold it this time.

We got into the stall and I sat down trying to hurry and entertain Katelyn all at the same time.  I spotted a seat cover dispenser.  Bingo.  I quickly pulled out one of the papery rings and handed it to Kate thinking she would love wearing it as a necklace or listening to the crinkle paper.  Babies love crinkle paper.

I thought wrong.

In my haste to entertain Katelyn, I forgot that those sanitary covers are made from the same material as the paper that covers the bench in the doctor's office.  Kate took one look at that paper and freaked out.  It was an epic freakout.  I was confronted with the choice of chilling on the toilet for the next fifteen minutes trying to calm her down or making a hasty escape with an angry terrorized toddler screaming in my face.

I chose the second option.

It's a wonder we made it out alive.  Luckily it was nothing a Happy Meal and a trip to the Dollar Store couldn't fix.