What I Saw At The Pediatrician's Office

One thing I never really fully comprehended when Animal was conceived was that I'd spend so much time at the pediatrician's office.

Don't get me wrong — we haven't spent all that much time at the pediatrician's office, at least no more than we should, knock wood — it's just that it was one place I never fully considered, never paid any attention to and never thought that would figure into our daily existence.

Jen is probably all SMH or whatnot, because choosing a pediatrician was one thing she definitely thought a lot about before Animal was born. And for good reason — we were lucky to find a good doctor within walking distance of Kawama. I can't imagine having to take the subway to the pediatrician's office, especially with a sick kid. So that's all good and etc.

But visiting the pediatrician's office is a brand new experience, which means it's something to overanalyze. I like, for example, what I perceive as this immediate camaraderie open to me now that I have a child. In short, it's basically OK to talk in the waiting room. To total strangers, I mean. Not something typical, especially in a large urban environment, especially for a male. I like the clear and present danger of germs in the waiting room; as long as Animal doesn't come home with a cold or worse, it's good to put yourself on guard, to stress a little. And most of all, I love the self-congratulatory feeling I get when the doctor tells us we're doing excellent because Animal is gaining weight. I don't think I've gotten this much positive feedback since middle school. It's a long-lost feeling.

So here's some stuff I noticed on our last trip.

1) I wonder if people tend to fib about their child's age, just as an aging socialite or an actor might fib about his or her age. I say this because there was this alleged one-year-old who was walking around upright like he'd been walking for years. I don't have much of a handle on child development yet, but Jen confirmed that it was unusual for a child who just turned one to walk so well. Then it occurred to me: Why not fib? "Just turned one" could mean a lot of things. I "just turned" 32, for example. This past decade, that is. You get my drift.

2) Outside, this medical specimen lab box pictured below. Dude, if you need to be told that all those little boxes contain is blood and piss, you're in a worse way than anyone previously thought.

Medical Specimen Lab Box, Astoria, Queens

3) A Penn State diaper bag. I know it hasn't been all that long, and I know that it's wasteful to get rid of practical items, but if there's one thing I've learned since Animal has come into our lives it's that child rape is no laughing matter, and it's better to remove reasons for people to talk.

Posted: February 1st, 2012 | Author: | Filed under: The Cult Of Domesticity | Tags: , , , , ,