Love is Blind

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• Dear Blog, I think it’s time I say “Goodbye”

  I’m afraid my blog and I are calling it quits.  You heard me.  I got straight to the point and let you know what was on my mind, a rare move for Megg Lasswell.    I had every intention of letting those of you who are kind enough to read my blog, know that I was leaving behind Love is Blind…weeks ago.  Unfortunately, I am a bit of a non-confrontational asshole and I'm letting you know right now.  Right here and now, in this, my “dear john” letter.  I’m hoping that you all will forgive me for exiting on this last blog post instead of telling you and then posting some more.  That’s such a bitch move, right?  I know, and I hang my head in shame. Read More... Posted Jul 29 2009, 01:50 AM by Megg with | with 19 comment(s) Filed under: gigi, megg, gia, dear john letter, goodbyes suck, goodbe, love is blind, bye, see ya, hasta, strollerderby, movin' on up er...over?, end of blog

• Potty Training Myself

  Teaching a toddler, my toddler in particular,  to pee and poop on a toilet has always been something that I didn’t particularly look forward to.  You can call me lazy, awful, horrible and a shitty parent all you want (no pun intended) but I just never got super excited at the thought of potty training GiGi.  First of all, the word “training” instantly brings me thoughts of the Olympics, or animals who do tricks, both of which are quite cool but not exactly the image of my child on a potty seat.  The idea of my daughter learning to go to the bathroom outside of her pants isn’t first on the list, however screwed up that is.  So, the wording alone puts me off, never mind the actual possibility of my child giving me more fun messes to clean up in the future. (****And on a side note - if they call it "potty training" does that make me the coach?  If so, where are my whistle, jersey, and both head and arm sweatband?  Do we need a sponsor?)   I want her to have the independence that comes along with going to the bathroom alone, really I do.  I also love entertaining the idea that my wallet will be fatter from spending less money on diapers, etc.  With anything that my babe does, it’s on her schedule and at her pace, this much I’ve learned.  Family and friends and lovely sites have talked about toddlers+bathrooms=challenge.  It was inevitable that being a first time mother I would try to pick up some tips on what might make sense for potty training bathroom Olympics protocol.  One week GiGi had this epiphany that peeing in her diaper is something far too exciting to keep to herself, and when she shares that news with me I change her diaper.  Voila!  Picking up on what she was layin’ down, I began the whole potty training thing with the deluxe clone of a big potty that comes in the delightful shade of baby blue and produces stickers when she flushes and music when she is both trying to go potty and when she actually goes.  Sensors, stickers, music, and a flip up toilet seat…what’s not to love right?  Right.   GiGi played with the potty constantly. Played as in the past tense of play.  I opted for a potty seat that fits on the “big girl potty” and removed the deluxe toddler potty because the only use we were getting out of that was a make shift ipod (or would that be ppod?) and a removable pee holder that my kid would suck on.  Don’t worry, it isn’t as gross as it sounds. If she had actually sat on the seat with a bare butt to pee instead of giving the seat a little ass-drive-by,  then I would have freaked out a little more.   GiGi is the proud owner of a princess pink designed potty seat that I couldn’t care less about and she doesn’t understand at all (fyi: we have stricken the word PRINCESS from our vocabulary here.  Unless there is one shaking your hand at Disneyland or you’re referring to a Disney song sung by one).  She has a little step to help her off of the potty and a few other items to assist in potty time.  Being that I am doing this whole “training” thing and the last that this situation arose I was a kid myself and on the learning end of it – I don’t know jack about what I’m doing.  Peeing and pooping and loving GiGi are all natural things so I figure I’ll just wing it.         (Potty Animal)   I know that I have, thus far, created a potty monster.  She is getting awfully demanding in the bathroom although Im sure if she had better-than-terribly two- manners it would just seem ritualistic and normal.  Anytime she is set on the potty, she screams “water!” and “bookie! Fish!” which means, “Hey mom can you please fetch me a little cup by the toothbrushes and fill it with water and then grab my Dr. Seuss One fish two fish Braille book?  Thanks, you’re a dear.”   If the previously stated needs are not met, then I get to deal with potty boss and her wicked refusal to pee.  I try to shutdown her crankiness, and appease her wishes, since I am the one who created this standard of potty training.  When I originally started taking her to the bathroom, I brought her a book for double reasons.  1.) maybe she would sit longer with a book she loves, and, 2.) who doesn’t like something trashy to read on the toilet?  I’m sure most people don’t find Dr. Seuss trashy, and on the whole I don’t either, but how responsible is it to have a fish driving a car in the water?  And counting too?  Sounds like a sobriety check to me, don’t you think (coughcoughLindsayLohanoftheFishWorldcough)?  Im just saying its like a toddler version of In Touch magazine….ish.    Read More... Posted Jul 13 2009, 08:17 AM by Megg with | with 14 comment(s) Filed under: blind children, blind, struggle, water, pee, potty training, gia, tmi, poop, poo, bath room, visually impaired gigi, bodily functions, princess are on everything and its making me sick, potty seat

• Calamity G.

  My darling tot has an ambitious mind and legs to support it.  The moment I explain to her that roads are dangerous and hills are steep, and NOT to go whichever way it is she isn’t supposed to go– she makes a run for it.  GiGi and I were playing in the front yard of my sisters’ home on Wednesday and instead of giggling over the furry bunny rabbit hopping about the front yard, she opted for falling.  Not once, but several times.   The yard has a tiny slope to it and in the midst of some serious running momentum; GiGi stumbled and ran into the cute scalloped brick border around one of the breezy trees.  She slammed into them and then rolled down the tiny hill. *tiny* hill.  Her poor shins are scratched to pieces and both bare bluish purple bruises that make me feel like crap every time I see them.  She shook it off pretty quickly and was more upset that I was holding her than the fact that she had blood on her legs.  She sprinted out of my arms and so I let her go.  Nothing appeared stitch-worthy and while I would like to have bandaged her up and pampered her little legs, she would have no part of it.   She got a good five minutes of running in before she decided to venture toward the brick surrounded flower beds.  I stood in front of them, trying to plead with her to play with her cousin and explaining the harsh environment that roses lived in. Brick, thorns, and tiny baubles are not a girl’s best friend.  She screamed and screamed and when I redirected her to the lawn, she ran the other way.   She zigged, I zagged and the bushes caught her.  I rushed her inside to scope out the blood, bruises and tears and again, she only wanted down so that she could play again.  My child is a tiny Wolverine, an x-babe of indestructible force.   The back of her right leg looks like I pulled a bush out of the ground and smacked her with it and her shins look like Tanya Harding got a hold of them.  Its sad.    We opted not to go back outside at my sisters house, so when we arrived home she was more than ready to run free outside.  GiGi is pretty simple when it comes to outdoor play.  Run, run, run and run some more toward danger (i.e. pools, roads, rosebushes.)  If not, she likes to swing or jump on the trampoline.  I say “jump” but its more like her sitting in the center while I jump around and watch her slightly fly into the air.  If I were to really jump, I’m sure that I could catapult her into... Read More... Posted May 16 2009, 02:03 PM by Megg with | with 7 comment(s) Filed under: sick, gigi, doctor, gia, slides, childrenn, calamity, hurt, injuries, gigi takes after me, accident prone children, bruises, band-aids, swings, injury, cuts, danger, accident prone toddlers, trampolines suck

• ...and the words fell like raindrops

  The topic of speech therapy and whether or not GiGi would ever say anything other than mama, bite, mimi, dada  and  papa has been on the table at our weekly in-home services for a little while now.  Should we get assistance if there aren't more words by age two or three or two and a half. Does she need them? Are blind children more likely to require these services?   I admit to being an overly pushy person when a casual mention of needing something extra is thrown out.  I jump at the chance to get her help.  However, the older she gets the more I realize that she is a tiny girl writing down her story one page at a time and sometimes she’s super slow.  Sometimes she gets writers block.  In the end, she always gets the story done.   Speech is just another page in her journal and as her mother I need to be less insistent on fixing something and more accepting of who she is and her speed of development.   I’ve said it before and I’ll say it as many times as I see fit; finding out that your baby has something as serious as no vision, at four months old instead of immediately, plays with the mind.  It plays with mine constantly.  There is still a big fat huge wagon full of guilt that I carry with me most of the time, and its got “how did you NOT know?” written all over it.  She’s two years old now and while its such a silly issue at this point, I still fee like going way overboard when it comes to her care.  Medical, physical, whatever care it may be, I don’t want her behind because I didn’t pay attention.  There shouldn’t be any more heartaches and shocks because I simply didn’t know.   So with the guilt following me around, it’s hard to learn a healthy balance between being GiGi’s parent/advocate/teacher and then JUST being her mother.  Letting her do what she will and develop how she was intended.  I never thought having faith in my child at this age, this young, young age, would be so difficult, but it is.  She has wowed me since birth and yet I constantly doubt that she will just naturally begin to do whatever it is that I’m worrying about.  I feel bad about that.   For the past few months her vocabulary has been limited to mama, dada, papa, pamma, mimi, bup (for up), bite, nana, peekaboo,  cookie and cracker.  I was happy that she was at least communicating that.  Those are all very important words.  There were words here and there that she picked up, but then laid back down almost the next and went back to.  It was frustrating.   …..and then she said rock-and-roll.       (because she *is* rock and roll in my book)     video after the jump ... Read More... Posted May 05 2009, 11:14 AM by Megg with | with 12 comment(s) Filed under: gigi, toddler, first words, talking, gia, age two, development, when to sit back and shut up, language skills, learning, specialists, speech therapist, speech therapy, teachers who sometimes aggravate me, words

• Poop.

  GiGi and I are crazy young ladies with wild on our side and a pocket full of routine to keep us grounded.  It’s a cute pocket, but it’s awfully heavy.  At night, GiGi either takes a bath or cleans up in a tot bath in the gigantic shower we are blessed enough to have.  When we finish with the lather-rinse-repeat, my child and I stroll back to my bedroom where she avoids her diaper and I attempt to get pajama’d in record time.  It’s a simple routine; showering, getting dressed, and then brushing our teeth before bedtime.  I’ve learned that if I change the bulletin list in any way, trouble arises.   A few nights ago, GiGi ran down the hallway yelling “Papa! Papa!” so I figured that it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if I were to let her tell my father goodnight while I scurried to get dressed and ready her pjs/ lotion/ diaper/ nightly shot (growth hormone, not tequila)/ toothbrush and book.  What’s cuter than a baby tush flashing past their grandparents?  Nothing.      It all seemed so innocent.  Naked time for the babe and a series of loud  “awwww’s” and “ well hello there’s” followed by giggles.  I was done in two minutes flat.  Do you know what can happen in two minutes, aside from dressing and prepping?   Poop.    Everywhere.   I walked down the hallway to grab my naked monster baby who I could hear rambling at the other end of the house and as I approached the end, I saw it.  It looked like little hot wheels scattered across the carpet where the hallway finished and the living room began.  “is that poop?’’ I thought.   I stopped and listened and only heard GiGi talking to herself.  If it was poop, there wasn’t anyone who had noticed it.  I flipped on the light and found big people sized pooplings laying about, mocking my new, capricious routine of letting GiGi run naked.  The cute had officially worn off and faded into a crap stained carpet.   It’s never a good idea to rattle the elders at night so I quietly ran to the kitchen to grab some cleaning supplies.  When I returned and looked closer at the mess, not only did I see the poop, I saw two smooshes.  One was an obvious foot smashing and the other?  The other was a wheel mark.  I’m not going to lie – I panicked.  Not only was there a mess on the carpet, but now it was a traveling mess.  Read More... Posted Apr 28 2009, 01:36 PM by Megg with | with 13 comment(s) Filed under: gross, gigi, toddlers, gia, chairs, tmi, poop, shit talking, poo, parents indeed love the poo talk, crap, slides, pooping on the carpet, couches, shit

• Through her Looking Glass(es)

  I’m not sure whether or not the sudden boom in speed and activity is a glasses related change or not,  but it’s happened.  Change has happened.   My child is an acrobatic wonder, moving with extreme speed and velocity as she climbs on and off of the furniture and attempts to climb up her indoor slide the wrong way.  The jumping on our furniture game has become a leading sport in the Lasswell/**** household.  At times I find myself encouraging the activity.  I know it’s wrong to encourage this sort of thing and then say, “no no!  don’t jump on the couch,” another day,  but after months and months and months of quietly begging some creature in the sky, rubbing rabbit feet, pulling apart the wishbones, kissing mini Buddhas and putting out a crapload of good karma, etc, to tempt the fates into allowing GiGi to crawl, or *fingers crossed* walk, I feel I am justified in being torn between good parenting and an aww-fuck it- go jump! kind of an attitude. ESPECIALLY since she is now wearing glasses because the doc thinks she is seeing things. Real things, not like acid flashback or kooky in the head -seeing-things  sort of "seeing things."   When GiGi first got her glasses, there were a few very subtle differences in her behavior.  It was a short adjustment period for her to get used to wearing them.  She hasn’t really ever fought me on the issue of putting them on, or wearing them all day.  That said, she has already figured out that glasses are important and very interesting articles of “whatever” for mama.  When she wants something she isn’t getting, she will rip them off and throw them.  She seems to know that doing that bothers me.  A lot.  She says “glasses” so clearly, and knows where they are.  If she falls or bumps them on the carpet, or otherwise mushes them on her face, se will adjust them herself and get them back to the right spot. She will fix them until they are perfect.  Its unusual. It’s, it’s like they have always been a part of her.   The way she needs them to be perfect just seems to tell me that they do something for her.   Something more than what I thought they would do for her vision.   When its playtime and GiGi is wandering around clapping her hands, or rambling some new inaudible song lyrics, she will stop and look into the stove and move her head from side to side, like she’s noticing something.  She’s begun to..     (way too many photos after the jump.) Read More... Posted Apr 17 2009, 03:13 PM by Megg with | with 12 comment(s) Filed under: o.n.h., optic nerve hypoplasia, onh, gigi, exploring, blindd, gia, glasses, scratching mommy, scratching glasses, drew carey frames, children with glasses, help me keep these things on her head, scratchin' records

• Kid On a Leash

  Raise your hand if you have ever stared at a parent in some public place or another, with their hand nestled a foot thick under a soft looking leash attached to a toddler.  Go ahead. Raise it.   Now raise your hand again if you’ve ever silently vomited and swallowed it back down again, at the idea of EVER using one with your own child.   I raise both hands, to both cases.  I have been Senora El Judge-y in the past, numerous times, and I’ll bet that I’m just asshole-enough to have made a comment ever-so-quietly-yet-audible-to-the-parents who held leashes.      My reasoning in the past was solely based on aesthetics alone.  There is a CHILD on a LEASH. How wretched. How lazy.  How on Earth can you wake up one day and say, “fuck it, let’s put the baby on a leash today and forgo the hand holding and actual watching of our child.”  I gave unintended dirty looks formed out of a single twenty-something mentality and a mild fear of babies.  I created this Karma that has now come back to bite me on the ass as I wrap my hand around a brown “tail” attached to a monkey that sits atop GiGI’s back. Read More... Posted Apr 11 2009, 11:51 AM by Megg with | with 24 comment(s) Filed under: gigi, kids, gia, glasses, judgemental parenting, leashes are awful, bad parenting, toddler leash, safety, karma, ew, safety devices, child leashes, I still hate ann coulter, leash

• Happy 2nd Birthday, GiGi

  Dear GiGi,   You came into this world at 8:56 am on a Saturday morning in the hospital we picked out in Berkeley, CA.  It was barely warm outside on the afternoon before, when I entered the hospital for a routine check-up before you were to come into the world the following week.  I wore a sundress in, with an aqua hobo bag on my arm and the doctors kept me.   You were due on April 3rd, and I was scheduled to have you on April 10th.  You arrived on the 7th, the day before Easter.    Our doctor gave me something to help you along since there was a dangerous amount of fluid left to protect you.  According to her, you would be here at noon the next day.  She left our room late that evening.   …and two years ago today, at this exact moment in time, I sat in a hospital bed in Berkeley and complained  “I think I have some cramps,” with a puzzled face and heart full of nervous happy.   I stepped into the restroom - My water broke - I barfed.   I cried in your daddy and nurse Suri’s arms and walked back to my bed with paper towels under my feet and gross on my toes, scooting, like they were ice skates.   When the nurses said “the baby will be here in an hour,” you came out 15 minutes later.   From the first of the five pregnancy tests that I took came out positive, my eyes filled up with a thousand tears at the thought of actually having to give birth.  The test was positive you were in my belly and I was positive that child birth would kill me. I was scared. I was petrified.    Right before the doctors came in and I was about to push you around, into this world, I asked if I could take a nap.  I was comfortable and coherent and otherwise pleased that you were coming.  Labor was not painful, and I wasn't scared at that mment, and no....childbirth didn't kill me.   I said I was having a boy and would name him Wolfgang Oliver, and alas you were, and are, a little girl.   The doctor said “We have a healthy baby!”   Your dad said “I told you so!  We have a little girl!” and placed you on my chest.   We took one look at you and he said “She’s no Luka. That’s not her name at all.”   We were all planned to name you Luka Lorraine, but you ended up with Gia Lorraine instead.   He thought of your name and I agreed, only because I would be able to call you Gia.     Newborns cry all the time, at least that’s what I had read and heard, but you couldn’t have been a more different baby than those in the articles.  You were the most quiet and calm baby in the world.  Everything that could be said to me about babes in belly and babes fresh out of the womb, couldn’t have been farther from who you were and what you were about.   I don’t know how it’s possible, but with every fear I had and still have, you comfort me in the most simple way. YOU take care of ME whether you realize it or not, and I love you for many reasons including that one. We’re a team.   Two halves that make up an insanely silly whole.   We fumble along at times, but get through everything singing, and dancing when no one else is.....   (memory lane pics after the jump) Read More... Posted Apr 07 2009, 05:07 AM by Megg with | with 16 comment(s) Filed under: gigi, berkeley, toddler, kids, baby milestones, gia, age two, life, celebration, birth, birthday

• Love Wears Glasses

  I had a few post all lined up about various things going on in mine and GiGi’s life.  Places we went last week and new people we met.  All of those posts are sitting in my Babble folder with their little jaws dropped at this post I’m writing now.  Those posts have nothing on the news I have now.   My alarm was set for 4:30 am on Wednesday morning.  In case you all weren’t aware, 4:30 is an “a.m.” too.   I thought I would let GiGi sleep and then I would put her in the car in her pajamas and just change her at the pediatric ophthalmology office once we arrived.  Fat chance.  She woke up once we hit the cool morning breeze outside and smiled over whatever it is that GiGi smiles about when the wind kisses her cheek (natures affection?).  I was glad that she had a sunny disposition  so early in the morning, especially since she is nearing two year old and it’s an every-five-minutes toss of the dice which way her mood  leans.   I was in a bad mood.  Terrible in fact.  Tuesday went downhill, slowly, and I ended the night with ice packs on my poor head and TUMS in my tum.  The prospect of a doctor visit to an office that  had recently yelled at wasn’t making me feel any better.   The receptiawench had left a message on my cell phone – on a Saturday – to say that GiGi’s appointment was cancelled.  I cried, punched y pillow, and then vowed to sleep on the news before I called back.  Monday morning I gave the wench a ring and no answer.  After the fifth phone call I left a message saying, “Hi, this is GiGi ****’s mother and I got a call saying that her appointment was cancelled. I just wanted to confirm that the appointment really is cancelled, because this visit is WAAAAY overdue and if we really aren’t getting in, then I might just pass out.  But when I regain consciousness Im afraid I might just punch your office in the face.  So, um, can you call me back at ***-3**-04**.  Thanks”   Beep   She called back five minutes later, a little shaken up, and said “oh no, Miss Lasswell, we just want to confirm her for an EARLIER appointment, will that be okay?”   I absolutely thought that they were luring me there to arrest me for the punching in the face comment.   So then, where was I?  Oh yes, post-migraine, feeling barf-y, and worried about the possibility of being citizens arrested by a receptiawench, I got into the car and headed to the bay area. Read More... Posted Apr 02 2009, 02:09 PM by Megg with | with 46 comment(s) Filed under: optic nerve hypoplasia, blind, onh, gigi, children, toddler, kids, gia, pre-cane trainer, white cane, no cane, walking unassisted, toddling, blindd toddler, glasses

• Get Up and Go

  GiGi has been totally dependent on her shopping cart since the day she was introduced to it.  It was pretty much a whole and perfect union for months and months. In fact, I have one in the trunk of my car, always ready to lend a helping hand to GiGi at any given location we roll into.  There is a shopping cart at home also, and she spends almost all her waking moments pushing it in the same pattern around the house.  I was positive that the same exact travel pattern  - every day all day - was a direct result of GiGI inheriting some sort of obsessive compulsive gene from me (or let’s face it, her father), but it turns out that it has proven to be her best practice technique.   In my last post I shared my joy over her latest success in walking, hands and pre-cane trainer free.  Since Monday, she has become increasingly ill with a nasty cold, and more determined to walk alone than I’ve ever seen.   Yesterday, I felt like I was at my wits end with GiGi.  The constant crying I can understand, because she genuinely doesn’t feel well (we have a doc visit set for today), but the tantrums and hitting I can’t get on board with.  She wanted to be near me at all times, even if it was to hug me or throw a fit.  I seriously felt like we were having a horrible sick day that wouldn’t end, until she took a break from me and crawled from my room to the front room to greet my mother.  I could hear my moms excited tone so I walked down the hallway to find my tot walking on her own.  According to my mom, she just pulled herself up to her and started walking.  Now, anytime she decides to walk alone, I’m proud.  Since my last post she has actually done it so many times I can’t really count.  Usually a walk initiated by me, my sister, and of course my mother.  The walks were shorter distances but she seemed to be getting a little more confident.   My mother and I were watching her walk and commenting on how happy GiGi will be once she figures out how to stand up on her own.  She’s tried a few different ways to stand up, but they all just sort of seem like downward facing dog poses from a yoga class I wasn’t aware she was taking. Until yesterday... Read More... Posted Mar 13 2009, 06:28 AM by Megg with | with 10 comment(s) Filed under: optic nerve hypoplasia, blind, onh, gigi, children, toddler, kids, gia, pre-cane trainer, white cane, no cane, walking unassisted, toddling, blindd toddler

• Toddler Bowling.

  This morning at our weekly in-home visit from various teachers, including GiGi’s Orientation and Mobility Teacher, I watched faces twist themselves from smiles to looks of pain when I said, “So I took GiGi bowling this weekend!”  Their faces mirrored my feeling on Sunday afternoon as I sat in a little gray nailed-to-the-floor-chair that with a screaming toddler writhing in my arms while sticking her fingers in my eyes and nose in protest to bowling.   I can be uptight about certain situations and refuse to intermingle myself in things if I have a gut instinct  that GiGi will hate it.  Like, for example, going to the movies.  Kind of a no-brainer at this point in time.  Taking a toddler to the movies might not be a completely stupid idea if some really colorful, musical, Disney or Pixar-gasmic flick were on the screen, but in our case I have sort of come to the conclusion that movies in theatres will have to wait until she is a tiny bit older to listen to them.  Yes, I intend to raise a full-on film snob.  Back to my rambles though…   GiGi and I drove to the bay, yet again, but this time we did a little Valentine’s Day babysitting for a best friend (oh yes, there will be a post on that one, stay tuned) and then spent two days at my oldest sisters house.  It was a great big sister event in Napa full of nieces and nephew and rain-rain-rain.   What the hell does one do on a three-day weekend when its pouring cats and wine drunk dogs outside?  Why, we bowl of course.    The word “bowl” and all the catch phrases and words that go with that sport should have flipped a little switch on in my head that said “no.”    It didn’t hit any switches, and like a moron I waltzed into the bowling alley with a toddler on my hip and the notion that things would be fine.   My brain says that having snacks and music in tow will always make a situation seem brighter for my child, but in a bowling alley?  What the fuck was I thinking?           (She looks soooooooooooooo amused by it all, doesn't she?)     Read More... Posted Feb 17 2009, 11:10 AM by Megg with | with 3 comment(s) Filed under: ca, gigi, toddlers, babies, kids, blindd, gia, bowling, bowling alleies, sensory disorder, napa, toddlerbowling, sound, loud noises, bowling alley, volume

• Taking the boss to the doctor

  I have a feeling that when GiGi wants to be picked up I’m not supposed to pick her up because somewhere along the lines she became a big girl.  Whatever it is that I do, I’m not supposed to do it, and that rule applies at all times.  *GiGi is the boss, according to GiGi. So it would stand to reason that she is the boss, not just in our home, but everywhere her feet or stroller take her.   On Monday morning we had an appointment at the endocrinologist.  I say “we” because I am the one who talks a mile-a-minute to the doc, trying to recall every detail of GiGi’s  life from the last few months since he saw her, as well as the giant mental note I make of all those questions that come up between visits (see: Is she too skinny? Is she just thin?  Has anything come up?  Blood work? Lumpy things? Etc.).  I’m acutely aware of the remaining patients in the waiting room and their children.  Some come into the office with rolling IV contraptions attached to them and some are joined by other siblings and exhausted looking parents.  Seats are plentiful but fill up so quickly.  While I wait for our doctor to arrive in Exam room #2, I realize that he is not just our doctor, but at least half of those other patients’ doctor as well.  So I try to be respectful and organize my thoughts so that I don’t keep him longer than necessary, yet get all the answers GiGi needs.   It’s like a medical quick fire.   And what better to accompany a quick fire, than a squirming toddler!           (I didn't get any pictures of her at the Endocrinologist because of the crying and otherwise Regan MacNeil-like behavior. So then...here is my smiling little babe in a happier setting: The Franklin Park post-doctor trip.)  Explanation after the jump! Read More... Posted Feb 11 2009, 11:34 PM by Megg with | with 7 comment(s) Filed under: gigi, doctor, toddler, snot, waiting rooms, childrenn's hospital, insane, endocrinologist, gia, cortisol, early puberty, terrible twos, puberty, defiant, busy baby, hates the doctor, thin, weighing, cryingg children