Today we took Isabella to the pediatrician’s for her 1-year checkup. All went well. She’s now 21.1 pounds and 30.5 inches, still tall and skinny. (About 87th percentile for height, 50th for weight.)
She started screaming when the doctor was listening to her chest. I think she remembered what happens next: the shots. Though those weren’t so bad this time: brief screaming, very violent red-faced breath holding, followed by ear-piercing shrieks; but the tears were dried by the time we left the office.
I had to hold her down again brace her arm and her leg so she wouldn’t squirm away. Is there anything more emblematic of mother love than having to restrain your beloved child while a stranger stabs her with needles? She stares into my eyes with an angry, betrayed look: Mama, how can you do this to me? My baby, I would rather suffer a hundred shots myself than have you face one. But sadly it doesn’t work that way.
We got home and she was all flirty smiles for our next-door neighbor. I had to pry her away from the fence and carry her into the house. Then she scaled her personal Everest: the stairs leading to our upstairs neighbors’ second-floor apartment, chortling all the while.
Now she’s napping peacefully. i think we’ve definitely made the transition from two naps to one in this past week. The nap is still bouncing around a bit, she hasn’t settled on a time. Some days it’s been in the morning, other days in the afternoon; but she won’t go down more than once. The other time she just sits and screams until I fetch her.
Right now during the transition it’s hard to plan, not knowing when she’s going to conk out. But it will make things easier once she settles back into a predictable routine. I’ve enjoyed being able to plan excursions around fairly predictable nap times.
Anyway, I suppose I should go do some packing while she’s not underfoot….
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