Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Pediatricians And Sharks

Our Pediatrician's office was spawned in the pits of hell. It was one of those things that slipped through in the mass confusion surrounding Jamie's birth. We hadn't picked a pediatrician yet, since we weren't expecting him for another couple of months, and consequently our insurance picked one for us. Trust me when I say...don't ever do that.

After five years of wanting to poke sharp things through the phone receiver every time I called and talked to Atilla the Hun, you'd have thought I'd have found a new pediatrician, but for some reason, fate thwarted me every time. I jumped at random strangers when they mentioned they loved their pediatrician, and have begged more offices in tears than I care to confess at the moment. But our kids have state insurance, and consequently I run into three problems. 1) Not very many Pediatricians accept it (not that I blame them) 2) If they do accept it, they're not accepting new patients (despite my attempts at bribing them with chocolate and tales of my children's angelic temperaments) or 3) I can't understand anyone in the office because they all speak Spanish (reason #327 I should have learned that language).

It didn't really matter too much because my kids are rarely sick. The only time the office from hades made me truly angry was when they gave Jamie the chicken pox vaccine after I specifically asked them not to. Most of the time though, they were just rude, bored and treated me like I was a teenage mother. Last time I was in there, I finally had it with the ramshackle, toyless blip in the universe. A joyless place where kids go in shrieking and come out screaming.
I got home, pulled out the PCP list and started googling every single name until I had amassed a list of reasonable sounding physicians. After much haggling with the insurance company, I finally managed to get a Dr. for my kids who both spoke English and was accepting new patients. Heaven!

Dr. Regina Mangine

I hadn't needed her services until this Sunday when Charlie came out of the church nursery with a bum hip. I hoped it would get better overnight, but of course it didn't, so off to the new doctor we went (with much fear and trepidation on my part).

I shouldn't have worried. The waiting room had toys (shocker) and books (oh the joy), and sharks! Real ones. They had a giant aquarium that rivaled the zoo in stature and exotic looking fish. My kids were so enthralled, it would have been worth the trip just for that. Charlie's hip on the other hand confounded everyone from MA's to Dr's. Something was definitely wrong with it, but no one could figure out what. They wrote me an order for an ultrasound and sent me home with instructions for ibuprofen and rest (yeah right). He's completely fine today, so perhaps he just pulled a muscle or something? It's hard to tell when they can't talk.

I'm kinda glad we went in though, if only so we could meet Dr. Mangine. She's young, sweet, smart and looks like she could be my sister. ;-) I feel like a huge weight has been taken off my shoulders.

Now I just have to get them to their well check ups.

In other news, the twins came home for the weekend, along with Becca/baby in the pod and Meagan.

We've missed all of them so much, there was much hurrah'ing done around here.

And the Felix Family was together for the first time in at least a year (but more like two, because Zach's wedding doesn't count).

Good times.

Friday, September 10, 2010

And Summer Is Over

I'm laying on my stomach, on the living room floor as I write this, because my body was hijacked for use as an ambulance. Charlie is sitting on my back, giving life saving ministrations to an overly large, stuffed duck, while Jamie sits between my ankles and uses my injured big toe as a gear shift as he jams it into a lower gear to veer around a sharp corner. I try to point out that ambulances don't sound or drive like Ferrari's, but Jamie is unconvinced.

We started "school" last week, although technically we're waiting to start real Kindergarten next year. I thought it would be fun to do school for fun this year... you know... before he gets the memo that talking about your letters incessantly throughout dinner is decidedly not cool. School for us basically means a talking gummy worm shows up and hangs out with Jamie for awhile. They excitedly hold contests on who can draw the best "S", while the gummy worm impresses Jamie with his best jokes and witty banter. When the fun is all over, the the raspberry and grape flavored speciman disappears down into Jamie's tummy, only to magically reappear the next day. I think it's kinda creepy and weird, but the arrangement seems to be mutually agreeable between them.

Which leads to the next part of our school day. The digestive system. Jamie has some sort of obsessed facination with the digestive system. Thank goodness for youtube and google images (or maybe not), as Jamie now has a graphic appreciation for how exactly the stomach works. He especially likes to detail the finer points over breakfast in the morning.

"First it goes in my mouth and my teeth chews it up
Then it goes down my ehgulpagus
Then my tummy chomps it up
Then my pancake soaks into my bones and whatever my bones don't want comes out my butt. "

Sometimes we do the skeletal system which is almost as awesome as the digestive system, but not quite.

It's fun answering all the questions a five year old can come up with. Sort of like a game to see how fast you can type "can an anaconda eat a croccodile?" in your smart phone before the next question hits. The only time it was embarassing was last week when we were out eating sushi, and Jamie examined the lemon in his water, and let out a yelp "this lemon has a PENIS!!" as he pulled out a seed.
Not exactly son, but sort of.

Mostly though it feels like I read picture books...all. day. long.