Today was Ainsley's 2 year appt at the drs. She's up to a whopping 26 lbs 6 ozs. What a tank, huh? The dr asked me if I wanted to get her the flu vaccine. Last year she was so sick I nearly had to take her to the ER, and Pierson too, on New Year's Eve. So I said yes. The dr offered to do all the kids.
And that was the end of my peaceful existence. Scotlyn started crying (wailing's more like it), Pierson climbed under the chairs and yelled that no one was ever going to give him a shot ever in his life, and Chad started laughing....until I asked why he was laughing about getting a shot. "What, you mean I have to get one too???"
So, fast forward a few minutes, and Ainsley has gotten the shots I allowed and had her finger pricked. She stopped wailing and was reduced to an occasional sad sniffle. And she wiped her snotty nose on my shirt. And it's the others' turns. Pierson is still camped out under the chairs, assuming he's invisible. But since he's still yelling, we're pretty sure where to find him. I told the nurse it might be prudent to go by age. Chad smiles. Oldest first, I say. Like I said, he's going to stop delighting in his sibling's pain and terror.
So he is very much a wimp himself, but this time he didn't cry...quite. His eyes got really wide and he held his breath. Brave guy.
Scotlyn's next, and she's hollering like we were stringing her from the rafters, but she basically quit her snotting and slobbering as soon as the nurse was done.
Now....Pierson's turn. I move chairs, but he hangs on to them. I had to pull the chairs all the way out to the middle of the floor, and one of the nurses - yeah, one of them (they called in reinforcements) - held onto the chair while I tried to pry him away from it. He stretched a good bit before we managed to seperate them. (He's still bellowing, by the way.) I stuffed him down between my legs, clamped on to both arms, the nurse tried to grab one of his arms but she really got mine until I had to ask her to let go of my wrist. So, with him held down by me and two quite hefty nurses, he got a tiny little shot in his arm.
That's when the fun started. Once we set him free he tore out of the room, past the crowd that had gathered, through the waiting room, and all the way to the elevator, all the while still roaring that he wasn't getting a shot ever. (Sorry, dear, too late.) Chad corraled him and dragged him back while I checked out.
Then that nurse (I think she did it on purpose) said, in the children's hearing, "make sure you make the appt for the booster shot before you leave". Ever so cheerful. Witch. So we start all over again, with Pierson bellowing that he's never coming back here again, and he's mad. Yeah, really. News to me.