The kids hate it, but every year we drag them to the doctor for a physical, and because they have relative free schedules, we always make the appointments over Christmas break. You can imagine how excited they get over the potential for immunizations right before Christmas. This year we delayed it until just before New Year's Eve, when the only one who might be inconvenienced by post-inoculation pain and malaise would be Alex. We're fair parents like that.

We dragged them out of bed early today, shoved them each toward a shower, then fed them, and amidst a plethora of complaining pushed them into the car and took them for the annual end-of-the-year exam and emotional torture. They've seen the same pediatrician since birth, and while they grumble the entire ride, once they're in the waiting room (the same place where Alex once dropped his pants to demonstrate that he was 'a big boy') they're fine and at least partially animated. They go in one at a time; I stay in the waiting room with the kids not being examined and Char goes in with the kid being poked at.

The waiting room was loaded with kids today, mostly hacking and wheezing kids with snot dripping down their faces. Alex sat there with his arms crossed over his chest, watching them with bareky contained repulsion, and I realized this kid was head and shoulders above most of the people in the room, parents included. He tolerated it because he had to be there, but he wasn't happy about it.

Kevin went in first, followed by Rachel; when it was Alex's turn, he asked Char if she would mind if I went back with him. She tried not to grin; she expected it and could hardly blame him for not wanting to strip down to his underwear in front of her. He wasn't thrilled with the idea of sitting there in his briefs with me in the room, either, but that was more tolerable.

But, we were both met with the unexpected; instead of turning left once through the door the nurse took us right, and settled us into the doctor's office instead of an exam room.

It's time, the doctor felt, for Alex to start seeing another physician instead. He was free to stay with the pediatric clinic if he was more comfortable, but the issues he would be facing in the next few years would possibly be better addressed by an adolescent pediatrician, or even the physician his mother and I see. His oldest patients tend to be under 12 (I gathered that after that parents transition their kids to their own doctors) and while he can treat Alex, there are things he may not do as well with (and left unsaid: Alex is 14 stuffed into the body of a 17-18 year old. He probably has more body hair than 10 of his typical patients combined.)

Alex opted to start seeing my doctor; we left there with an appointment for later in the day; once we were there I went to the exam room with him for about 15 minutes, After the doctor came in and introduced himself to Alex, I was invited (pushed) to go back to the waiting room.

Whatever they were going to discuss, I was not going to be a part of it. I was well aware that I could insist on staying, or speak with the doctor after the fact, but Alex made the move to a new doctor for a reason, and I can respect his privacy.

Not that I didn't ask him on the way home how it went.

Same old shit. Breathe deep, exhale. Touch your toes. Turn your head and freaking cough. Does he make you do that? I only had to do that on sports physical before.

He was assured that yes, I have to do that. And was relieved he's far too young to worry about a prostate exam.

Still. Today was another reminder that he's this much closer to being an adult. The kid who dropped his pants in the waiting room when he was two said goodbye to the doctor who hadn't intended to get that sort of response to his questions twelve years ago.

He's another inch taller. He's 6'1". He hit 165 pounds, and it's all muscle.

He needs a haircut, but I'm reticent to suggest it, because that thick moppet hair is about the only thing that suggests he's as young as he is.

This whole getting older thing kind of sucks.

Best part for all the kids: no shots this time.