Taking toddlers to the vet

Sometimes I wish it could actually be the way this sounds, but no, we took the new doggies to the vet and the toddlers joined the adventure “to see what a vet looks like”. It’s an important, educational thing to do when you are four years old and have never seen a vet before in your entire life. The two-year-old wanted to stay home and watch the Lollos DVD for the millionth time, but when the puppies got in the car she was sold on going wherever they were going.

So, the four of us plus two pups got in the car and out at the vet at almost 18:00 in the evening. At the vet, the puppies first had to be weighed. Daddy carried the box with them in it and the rest of us trailed behind... every single one of us. No one has ever seen how dogs are weighed, and some of us who have seen it last night won’t remember anyway... Then we went back to the waiting room... to wait for the vet. And have old ladies check out our puppies. I have vast experience in old ladies and ooms checking out your babies, but I had no idea it happens to pups as well. And then we had to smile and say how cute her doggy was...

This is the moment a few things got a bit out of hand. We’ve done the small talk, now we just had to sit and wait. Toddlers are not particularly gifted when it comes to sitting and waiting. Any mom could tell you that. So the monster two-year-old starts investigating everything there is to look at and touch. Goes and stands next to people who choose dog food – as if she’s part of the conversation and helping them make a decision...  I call her back (people in shops and other public places usually say goodbye to my child and call her by her name when we leave). On her way to us, she makes some kind of weird move (still unstable on her feet) and falls down, banging her head on the floor. Groot skree. Ten hemele. We are the centre of attention. Yay. All this while the puppies try to get out of the box, not sure they like the environment.

A lady runs over with two Spur sweets. The four-year-old opens hers and pops it in her mouth. Two minutes later she tells me she doesn’t like it and doesn’t want it any more. I say you can’t spit it out here. She knows not to take the matter any further. The two-year-old holds the sweet under my nose until I open it. Of course it falls on the floor just after she put it in her mouth and of course she picks it up and puts in her mouth again. Three-second rule. Then Charlie gets out of the box and runs – straight towards the vet’s rooms actually. Mommy scrambles and returns him to the box.  

At last the vet calls us. And he’s… stoic. Even daddy the IT guy says he has the personality of a rock when we come home. So much for the four-year-old’s first encounter with the vet. And she was so excited!