Today I took the Roc to the clinic for a follow-up with his new family doctor. She wanted to see him again so she could get to know him a bit better and give him a chance to get used to their office. Nice idea but it wasn’t a fun experience. We arrived 10 minutes before our scheduled appointment and the Roc was well behaved for the first 2 to 3 minutes in the waiting room. After that if felt like pure chaos to me. He wouldn’t sit with me, wouldn’t stay away from the Christmas tree, kept standing on his chair, wiggled all around like a monkey when I tried to hold him on my lap, ran circles around me when I tried to move him to the other side of the room so I could try to talk to him, and was sooo loud. I started to feel a bit panicky. After 20 minutes in the waiting room and quite a few stares as well as a few disgusted sighs from the people around us, I carried a wiggling Roc to the front desk and pleaded to go back to an exam room. A few minutes later my wish was granted, and as I struggled to get the Roc through the door feeling all eyes on my back, it happened, my panic turned to tears.
I started crying and was having a hard time getting myself under control. I haltingly tried to explain to the nurse that I was having a hard time controlling the Roc which was doubly hard to do under the scrutiny of the packed waiting room. She said something to the effect of “little boys will be little boys” and her son always behaves worse than her daughter. But it’s more than that. Those people looked at him like he was a bad, naughty little boy and at me like I was a total moron who couldn’t control her kid.
By the time the doctor came in I was under control but one look at my face told her that I had been crying. So again I explained my tears and she said some nice things that I can’t remember now and also that this will probably happen from time to time, especially from the “oldies” who just don’t get it. She said that the Roc is a darling little boy and that he’s doing great. Nice to hear but I still felt deflated.
My head knows that it doesn’t matter what any of those people thought of me or my son, but it still feels bad to be judged and stared at. It just does. I also know that it does me no good to get worked up and cry about it, but sometimes I can’t help it. Maybe it’s PMS or maybe I really do need to toughen up about this sort of thing. GC is always telling me that I need to have a thicker skin. So, does anyone know how to grow thicker skin? Sandpaper? Brillo pads? Roughly scrubbing with a towel? Special toughening creams?
Right now I think I’ll settle for some chocolate…