Parenting Fail: Part 1/529224315

On Monday I took young Nava to the doctor because she had been coughing a little on the weekend and her eyes had been red and runny. This was the first time she's ever been even a little sick and I wanted someone else to tell me that she's fine. As is always the way, her symptoms evaporated completely by the time we were in the doctor's waiting room. But I'm stubborn and anyway I had nothing else scheduled, so having gotten this far I decided there was no way we were leaving without seeing the doctor about something.

Not-sick Nava. Because she can't say no,
she has to wear elephant ears and bunny boots.
This is how we incentivize learning to talk. 

Happily (I guess), there was something! The infant had developed a pretty grody rash behind her ears. It was flaky and nasty. Now, my ignorance is a silky and voluptuous creature whom I hate to discourage, so I hadn't done any research or even much thinking about this rash and had simply put it down to "some kind of cradle cap or something". Despite knowing better, I also had a slight nagging worry that it was a symptom of psoriasis, my own familiar skin condition, which I obviously hope my daughter hasn't inherited. 

And so we waited at the doctor's office. One patient was a teeny weeny baby that must have been less than a week old. His (her?) parents looked exhausted and held their little bundle in that awkward super-newborn way where you're just trying to prevent the kid's head from dribbling down your front like a wet squid. It made me realize how much old Nava has solidified in the last three-and-a-half months. 

There was also a cute toddler girl who was tinkering with toys while her mother and grandmother were intently focused on some kind of cell phone game. At one point the girl dragged this mini rocking horse out from under a table to play with, but she only pulled it out halfway, so that once she got on she inevitably smacked the back of her head against the countertop. 

The girl's mom leapt up and over me in time to prevent her child from bumping her head a second time. Then she shot me the same look that you give a turd that has failed to flush. I was sitting closer to the rocking horse than the kid's mom, and, you know, I wasn't playing with my phone, so I guess it was my job to intervene and save her toddler's skull, but I was holding a baby and also I didn't realize what was happening until it was too late. The kid didn't even notice she had banged her head. Whatever. So this other mom gave me the squint and I tried to act like a dignified turd who has better shit to worry about, so to speak. 

After that tiresome interlude in the waiting room, which I feel like doctors (and perhaps bloggers) insist on just to make a little more mountain out of what would otherwise be a negligible tad of molehill, we finally got in to the doctor. 

He instantly dismissed the suggestion that Nava was sick, so as planned I brought up the rash behind her ears. 

"Uh-oh, a rash?," said the doctor, who looks nothing like Santa but sort of talks like him sometimes. "Well, we had better take a look!" He carefully turned the baby's head from side to side to inspect behind each thumb-sized ear. 

He looked at me. "That is just dirt." 

"Oh," I said, deflated. "Just dirt?" 

Oh. 

"Yes, dirt," he said, slowly, as if explaining to a turd that it is not supposed to stick around but rather should swim away with its brothers. "One does actually have to clean the babies. I would suggest treating the ears with a washcloth and soap, and later applying almond oil. That should do it."  

Flushed, I left.