Tuesday, October 18, 2011


Guess who got her first round of immunizations?

This girl!

And she was not happy about it.

Somehow I forgot that's what we were going to the doctor for, so I went by myself and her father went to work, and when I walked in the nurse is like, "I'm gonna stab your baby today and probably make you cry as well," (at least that's what she should have said) and I immediately thought, "I wonder if her father could run the fifteen miles here in time for this because I'm not sure I can handle it!"

Turns out he couldn't.

Watching someone deliberately hurt your child makes you want to punch them in the face, no matter how nice and sweet the nurse is (and she was very sweet) I still had the overwhelming urge to throw her away from my baby, grab the syringe and poke her in the thigh with it repeatedly yelling, "How do you like that? HOW. DO. YOU. LIKE. THAT." And I know it is for her own good, that a few moments of hurt is better than a lifetime of polio, or the plague - whatever it is immunizations are good for - but at the time I was ready to get in actual hand to hand combat with a woman who probably weighs a good hundred pounds less than me all because she was trying to protect my daughter against scurvy.

I don't want scurvy Mama!

So that makes two times in a row I've cried at the doctor's. Luckily he claimed he didn't even remember last time and said that, "crying moms tend to happen a lot" so he doesn't really keep track of it. And then he launched into a talk about postpartum depression but I didn't hear any of it because I was trying to distract myself from sobbing by noticing how much chest hair he had showing, (it was a lot) and then imagined what it would be like if he braided it (awesome) and beaded the braided bits (amazing) and then did a cabaret-like chest shake while he read off her height and weight percentages to me (like having a musical chest instrument), and then suddenly I was giggling, almost uncontrollably, while he tried to discuss with me the ways I can increase my milk supply, which probably makes him think I am like a twelve year old who can't talk about boobs without giggling my ass off, which is totally untrue, I can talk about boobs with the straightest face you've ever seen, I'm very serious about boobs, braided-beaded-doctor-chest-hair on the other hand is one of the best visuals I've ever had in my entire life, but there's no way I was going to tell him that because I'm pretty sure letting your kid's pediatrician know you were just imagining things about his chest hair could probably be taken the wrong way.

Yay chest hair!!!

So, for her next round of shots her father is coming with me. If not for emotional support then at least so I can have a second opinion on this chest hair business.

Maybe I'll just stay home from that visit guys. You can get the shots, I'll just practice being cute.

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