Yes, you read that right. Her. I will explain in a moment.
I didn’t post an update yesterday because I was deathly afraid of what was going to happen last night, and I thought it best to go straight to bed instead of procrastinating via blog like I usually do. See, yesterday was Littlest’s 6 month booster vaccines. Considering the usual reactions to vaccines, meaning fever, irritability, lack of or increase in appetite, and general unhappiness, I wanted to err on the side of caution. Especially since his appointment was for later yesterday afternoon, and the 12-hour mark, which is usually when the reaction starts (if there’s going to be one), was going to be in the middle of the night.
Continuing on with my story of “her”, I spent a very happy day yesterday with my mother. We had coffee, she did my dishes (I love you Mommy!), we had lunch, we had more coffee, and once Biggest woke up, we headed downtown for a window shop. I discovered that Biggest does better with a window shop if he walks (probably because his energy is not building up strapped to a stroller), so he walked, Littlest strolled, and off we went. I have to say, he blew my socks off. Seriously, he’s mind-boggling. On our cruise, we ended up in one of the toy stores, and he was overjoyed at the sight of all the trucks. He asked if he could have one, and I said no, we were just looking, to which he replied “just looking?”, and proceeded to Ooo and Aaaa over all of them… and didn’t touch a single one. Mind = blown.
Once we were done downtown, we headed over to Littlest’s appointment. The public nurse’s office always has a volunteer to check you in, so this lady came over and started a conversation.
“Who do we have here?”
“This is Littlest.”
“Ok, well if you have her vaccine record, we can…
“…get her all set up, and..”
“..we can also weigh her and get her height…”
“oh, him, I’m sorry… if you’ll just get his record.”
That, my dear lady, was what I would have been doing had you gotten my child’s (who is wearing a boy jacket, a boy hat, and a boy sleeper, complete with aliens on the toes) gender right, so I didn’t need to correct you 48 times.. I think she may have been new, because she also told me to put his jammies back on (which I would have had to take off 5 minutes later to give him the needle). I refrained from expressing my aggravation and politely told her that I would leave them off.
Moral of the story: With all the unisex gender swapping going on, you should just come out and ask. You can no longer tell with names or clothing, despite my rant about what he was wearing, and it’s far less offensive to ask than it is to assume.
This update made possible thanks to the nonexistent reaction I woke up to. And the french press my mother left behind.