Maybe this is just more evidence for the case that I really don’t set the best examples for my children.
Phoebe just turned 1, which means Year One Doctor Visit. Which means probing questions as to how my child is developing. Which means probing questions as to whether I am a good parent. Which means, according to my calculations, no crawling baby at 12 months, I TOTALLY suck as a parent or something is definitely wrong with my kid, or both.
Clearly, look at my kid. There is nothing wrong with her.
Now look at me.
Something is definitely wrong with me. Yet, I don’t want to be told this at the pediatricians office, and I do not particularly want other people to know (unless they are on the Internet, so don’t worry).
So I have devised a plan to tell a bold faced lie to the doctor.
How old is Phoebe? 12 months. Not a lie.
How much milk does she take in a day? 28 ounces. Not a lie.
How many hours a night does she sleep? 13 hours. Oooh that sounds a little excessive. I can see the doctor looking at me sideways. She thinks my baby has narcolepsy. Maybe I should lie.
Does your baby still drink from a bottle? Uhhh. . . .trick question. Yes, but we are weening her (LIE).
Can your toddler crawl, walk, cruise, and pull themselves up? Yes, yes, yes, and yes. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie.
What things does our toddler say? Hello, goodbye. Mommy is beautiful. I’d like to read a book. ( All true-ish )
I wasn’t really sure if it was going to work, but I was willing to give it a shot for
my Phoebe’s sake. But, just as I was calling to schedule her an appointment, the clouds parted, a ray of light shone down and. . . . .
It’s not Olympic form, but it’ll do. Now mommy doesn’t have to be a liar. Well, about that anyway.