Things that Go "Bump..."

I had my annual physical this morning and certainly never would have imagined that I'd be blogging about it this afternoon, but I've just gotta.  It started as a routine visit -- exchanging "how have you been's?" with the nurse while she took my blood pressure, reviewed medical history, and so on.  Then she asked if it was ok for the doctor's medical student to assist, and I agreed.  I've seen lots of medical students before, and figure if they can learn something from my annual necessary evil, why not?

So, the nurse leaves and a few minutes later in walks Kevin, the medical student, who looks like he's all of 16.  He says he's just going to ask me a few questions and listen to my heart & lungs until the doctor is available.  Again, fine with me.  Kevin wants to know about my pregnancies, medical history, menstrual cycle (does he even know what this is at his age?), and what have you.  Then he says, "So, you're 39..." (sure, rub it in) "...the doctor will want you to have your first mammogram within the next year..." (did he just glance down at my chest?  Probably not...but now this is getting a little awkward.  For the the sake of medicine, though, I suck it up and act like a grown woman).  He pauses and says, "So it says here there's a bump..." and my heart stops.  "Ummm...bump?" I reply.  "What bump?  I'm not aware of a bump."  Dead silence.  Say something, Kevin.  SOMETHING.  He's studying my chart with intensity.  "Wait...this could be referring to a schedule bump," he looks up and continues, "Was your appointment rescheduled?"  "YES!" I blurted.  "It was!  Phew, you scared me." And I laughed a hearty (and unusually squeaky) sigh of relief.  "They called me a week or so ago to say the doctor had another commitment--" Kevin interrupts, "So they bumped your appointment!" Now he sounds squeaky, too, and continues, "But you know, most often those bumps are benign and nothing to worry about..."  Enough, Kevin.  Stop now!  There is no bump.  With that he got up and moved on to listening to my heart & lungs.  No more questions.

Kevin left the exam room and came back a couple of minutes later with the doctor, who says, "So, Kevin tells me things are going well & you have no concerns?"  "Nope, everything's great," I said, and then, before I could stop myself, "Well, except for the bump!"  Her eyes widened then, clearly taken aback, and I turned to the young medical student, and said, "Kevin, you didn't tell the doctor about the bump?"  (Kevin, forgive me, but the look on your rapidly reddening face was priceless.)  He stammered, "Well...see, what happened was...I saw this note about a 'bump...'" and then I came to his rescue.  I told the doctor what happened and she somehow contained herself and I said, "Probably safe to say Kevin will never forget me!"  We all laughed, and I think Kevin almost threw up.  Call it a 39-year-old woman's intuition, but I'm guessing young Kevin has crossed OB-GYN off of his list of possible specialties...

He Speaks!

As a parent you hear it, you read it, you even say it to others -- don't compare your kid to other kids.  Each child develops differently.  There is a wide range of "normal."  But as a parent, do you listen?  Absolutely not.  If it's your first kid, you're bound to feel a twinge when so-and-so's what's-his-name rolls over first.  Or says, "Mama."  Or takes his first steps.  But when your kid reaches a milestone before any other the same age, how can you not think you're kid is the smartest, most advanced out there?  Then if kid number two comes along, perhaps they take longer to sleep thru the night...they master the cup sooner...they weigh 5 pounds more than number one at that age...and so on.  Comparing is human nature.  And fun.  It gives us something to talk about.  And we learn (and are encouraged) to do it at a pretty young age.  But don't do it.

I thought Alastair was going to be my least chatty of the 3 boys.  Nope, not true.  He just took longer to get chatty.  Makes sense, right?  He didn't walk until he was 18 months old, after all, even though they other two did at 13 months.  (But man, can that kid throw a ball!  Accuracy and distance go far beyond the other two at age 2...)  So, all of the sudden Alastair is stringing words together in little sentences and makes every effort to be a part of every conversation.  Suddenly he seems to just "get" a lot of things, too.  I've said it many times, and blogged about it plenty, but there's something so thrilling about witnessing language develop.

I can't let another day go by without listing some of my favorite words & phrases that Alastair is using consistently:

hanny = hand
dorndoor = door
balala = banana
bagel = bracelet (also used for anything that goes around a wrist or neck...even the car seat straps are "bagels!")
football game = football (used for both the game & the actual ball.  Both used to be "upball game," but his f's are coming along nicely now, dangit.)
booyay = blueberries (also grapes & cherry tomatoes)
Ankiss = Angus (our yellow lab pup)
Oic = Loic
Laurly = Laurence (Loic called him this, too.  I don't think we influenced Alastair to call him this...but I suppose there's a chance we did.)
Nurny = milk (I know for a fact he can say "milk," but it remains "nurny" to him.)

I know there are more, but they are escaping me for the moment.  There are couple of other recent language favorites I want to share, though.  Alastair has become a master imitator!  It's so funny to hear him utter certain things the rest of us say.  He now says, "Well, hiiii," when he sees me, something I've said to him almost every day, twice a day, when I go into his room when he wakes up in the morning and after his nap.  His tone of voice & inflection is spot on, too.  It's a simple thing, but I never get tired of hearing him say it and I hope he never stops.

Finally, he has learned the power of language.  He's giving commands (very appropriately) to our newest addition, Angus, our yellow lab pup, and is delighted when Angus obeys.   He is also clearly catching on that praise goes a long way.  And if it works with the dog, why not with me?  The past few days, when he asks for something and I comply, he enthusiastically exclaims, "GOOD boy, Mom!"  You know, I gotta admit, those words of affirmation don't hurt...and I'm sure the other boys didn't know how to use them at this age.