When you get a good pediatrician, you hold onto her.
Not, like, in an awkward physical way, because then you might go to jail or something. But in an “Even though we moved over an hour and a half away from your office, we’re still going to make the commute to see you every six months, because you’re the nicest, most perceptive, most thorough physician for children that I could ever imagine, and the trip is worth it” kind of way.
We have that pediatrician, and today was Logan’s two-year-old checkup. He passed with flying colors, even though he’s a little low on the growth curve, in both height and weight. But seriously, if you know how small I am, that’s not a big shocker.
So that means I’ve been in the city in which I grew up for about 24 hours now. We stay with my parents when we come into town for any reason, and my mom usually mixes a super tasty cocktail for me when I come into town. I pretty much never drink anymore (as evidenced by the fact that I got wasted off a mere three drinks the night before Logan’s birthday), so after two Margaritas In A Bag
I was feeling enough to just want to go to bed. So instead of writing this post last night and scheduling it for this morning, I slept. Sorry, dudes.
So this week is less of me winning at parenting, and much more of me absolutely sucking at it, and learning things the hard way. I guess this is kind of a public service announcement thing, then.
That’s a “Bobby ban-aid” (Spongebob Band-Aid) on his forehead. And on his chin. But we’re focusing on the forehead one.
We let him wear it for decoration. He absolutely loved it. People in public asked what happened, and thought it was totally cute when I said it was just for fun.
I have the cutest kid. For real.
Obligatory future blackmail picture.
So, that was fun and adorable and he loved it, and so did everyone who saw it. Cute, cute, cute.
But then, three days later, when we took it off…
Don’t let your kid wear a Band-Aid for three straight days, you guys. Especially if you don’t know how your child’s skin reacts to adhesives.
I win a little less at parenting now. Shame.