She’s not Heavy, She’s my Mea…

On Monday afternoon, I took Mea into the doctor for her five-year old check up.  To say that she was nervous about going is an understatement.  She was freaking out for days.  Last year, when she had her check up they could have given her a booster shot of something, (bad Momma, I don’t remember which one!) but instead we chose to wait until this year.

Mea knew she was getting some shots.

She wasn’t happy about the idea of it.

Of course, when we got to the doctor’s office, she was so full of the sillies, I could barely get her to sit in one place.  Thank goodness we didn’t have to wait terribly long to get called back.  She may have driven me over the edge.

They weighed and measured her, they made her do an eye test.  I was a bit concerned about the eye test, because it seemed like she was really struggling with it, but they assured me that part of this is the “knowing the letters” part that messes most five-year olds up.  She does know her letters, but it was pretty far away.  I could barely see the lines the nurse was pointing to, and I had my contacts in.

As usual, when the doctor came into our room, she started to voice some concern over Mea’s weight.  She is in the 65th percentile for height, and the 83rd for weight.  The girl is a brick house.  She doesn’t have any fat on her, she is all muscle.  After the doctor saw her, she started stammering about how she’s just very muscular.  Well, duh.  Look that the kid.  She has biceps, she has actual abs on her belly, defined calf muscles.  How many five-year olds are built like that?  Not many.

Mea did have to have a finger prick, and she had to have four shots.  Two in each leg.  She said “Ow!” when the first 2 needles went in, and that was the end of that.  No crying, no whining, no nothing.  A big brave girl!

Now when we got home, that was another story.  Her legs hurt.  She was tired.  She turned into the devil incarnate.  To the point I had to leave and “go run some Erin’s” (this is what Mea always says when I say we are going to go run errands.  She gets so confused, almost every time she thinks we are going to go over to her big sister’s house to visit) she was driving me so bat shit crazy.  By the time that I got back from errands, she was passed out cold at 6:45.  Daddy did some magic baby whispering to her or something.

She was also whining and limping all over the place yesterday.  Hopefully tonight when we get home, she’s feeling much better.  I’d hate to have to throw her out in the rain…

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2 Comments on “She’s not Heavy, She’s my Mea…”

  1. Heather says:

    Zack got his shots at his four year old appointment. He cried and then once he got home he turned into a paraplegic. Jim said he was sitting on the floor dragging himself around. That night we went to a resturant and he couldn’t walk in from the car he just cried and said it hurt. So… good luck to you…. 🙂

  2. 3catsandababy says:

    It kind of irritates me that the Dr would start saying anything about her weight before really looking at her. It’s not like Mea can’t hear her.

    “Run some Erin’s” is adorable!!


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