”Franklin and the Green Night” is playing in the background. My children are babbling something I cannot understand. And I just rolled up my windows after inhaling the stifling smoke blowing into my van from a nearby cigarette. The AC in my van decided to quit working on its pregnant owner in the heat of August… and I’m sitting at the mechanic with my two kids while we wait. Yeehaw. It’s only 7:59 a.m.
In approximately one hour we’ll change venues. As much fun as I’m having in a stagnant van, the next place is what I dread. We’re headed to the pediatrician… for FIVE shots. With much trepidation, I told the nurse, “There is no way… she’ll go nuts.” To this, she responded by assuring me that all four year olds go crazy during these shots – which she later referred to as torture. Oh, grrrreat. I was on the verge of tears and nauseated by the time we hung up. So that’s where we’re headed – a torture session!
She knows that 5 shots are coming. As a matter of fact she repeatedly told people we saw during our errands yesterday. It was also the first thing out of her mouth this morning. I think her mother is more afraid than she is! We’ll see…
Okay, so they are done. I was amazed at how well she did! She was completely calm until she had to lay down on the table and get her legs swabbed with alcohol. She cried as I held both hands and tried to hold her attention. (However, she wouldn’t really look at me. She was too busy trying to sit up and tell the nurse to stop.) Within less than a minute, all five shots were done. Whew! 30 seconds later, she was grinning with pride because she survived. By the time we were out the door and in the hall, she was laughing. Yay!!!
I’m sure it helped to know that she was on her way to ToysRUs to pick out a toy of her choice!!
