Sooo, the beast had his 2 year checkup this week and guess what? He's still a beast. The first thing the doctor said when he came in was, "Well, I see he's well fed." Yep, yesterday he ate a phone book, 20 nails, and a horse...for breakfast. He has a dropped a bit in the charts though. He is almost 30 pounds and a little over 34 inches. The reason I say 'almost' and a 'little' is that it was near impossible to get accurate measurements. It was like trying to wrangle an alligator. From the moment the nurse called Noah's name I knew it wasn't going to go well. Noah immediately grabbed my hand. What's this?! He's willingly holding my hand?! As soon as I plopped him on the table he started freaking out. And then there were the sandals, oh his beloved sandals that he would have surgically sewn onto his feet if he could. As soon as I took them off, he started screaming. After his measurements the nurse locked us in the room to wait for the doctor. Beast put his sandals back on and kept saying, "Ready?! Go?!" Over and over he lamented until the doctor came in. Then the angry, furrowed brow came back out. Unlike Izzie, Noah could care less about what a stethoscope is or listening to his heart beat. He doesn't care about getting all that wax out of his ear. He can hear just fine. And checking his doodle?! He doesn't care about making sure everything looks good down there. He can pee just fine on his sister's back in the bath tub. From the look of irritation on Noah's face, he was about to show the doctor that his doodle was working just fine. (On a side note, when he was a baby he did pee on a doctor during a checkup. I laughed, only because it was a relief to see Noah peeing on someone other than me.) When all was said and done the last comment the doctor said to me was, "You're going to have keep your roller skates on for this one." Oh, please...I have rocket boosters on my shoes, much faster.
Besides the no dairy and seasonal allergies the only thing ailing Noah is eczema. It comes and goes and unfortunately, it will never completely go away but the good news is, he probably won't feel self conscious about it until puberty. Before we left Noah had to get two shots, one on each thigh. I had already prepared myself for the angry-pissed off-scream that was going to rupture my ear drums as I was the one who would be holding his upper body and be closet to his vocal chords. The nurse got a good grip on his lower body and said something that absolutely shocked me. "He's so strong." Really? I hadn't noticed. After the shots, she put on cameo band aids to match his shorts, because I'm sure he cared, and we were set to go. Even though Noah was mad he was also super cuddly and was clinging to me like a monkey. On the way out we passed the nurse again and, although I'm not a fan of foul language, I'm almost positive Noah was cussing her out in his mind by the look he gave her; Or he was thinking about ramming into her with his lawn mower (which he does to Izzie on a daily basis). Thankfully, there were no punches thrown and we got through the appointment with no bruises/marks or a bloody nose. (I never told you that Noah gave me a bloody nose once? He was learning to play catch. He's got a good arm.)
I know what you're thinking. Cute. Excitement. Can't wait to mow the lawn with my new lawn mower. How about Devilish. Plotting. Can't wait to mow people down with my new lawn mower.
I can comment now? This is great. NOAH IS A BEAST. I would gladly let him mow me over with his lawnmower if it meant I could seeeeeee him. I can't believe he is already two. It's crazy though, I have been singing happy birthday to him every day too! (Okay that last part might be a lie.)
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