Injecting Drama

This week I had the unenviable task of getting my soon to be five year old, Lanes, to the clinic for her prekindergarten vaccinations.  She was due to get not one or two, but four injections. I cringed at the thought of it. There was going to be a lot of drama for me.

Somewhere out there some Spanish soap opera really doesn’t know what it is missing. Lanes can do hand gestures, eye rolls, crocodile tears and exclamations like no other.  

You should see her deliver the line ‘but why?’, looking to the ceiling/up your nose with quivering palms outstretched. I really should think about being a stage mom, but that’s another story.

In order to minimize theatrics, I opted to tell Lanes about the shots closer to the appointment time. I briefly flirted with the idea of not telling her at all and then quickly giving her a treat after, but I had a small herd of angels on my left shoulder (or was it right? I get those two mixed up) berating me for even thinking of such a thing.

Luckily, Lanes’ preschool teacher had prepped her and her friends for their special prekindergarten shots and just as I was about to explain her fate, Lanes came and told me that ‘big kids need injections and they feel like an ant bite’. Whew. Lucky me.

I told her when I was little I had lots of shots too and I squeezed my parents’ hands really hard and then I didn’t feel anything. I got her there exited about clasping my blissfully unaware spouse, P’s, hand so tight it turns blue.

Plus I promised her lots of Band-Aids. For some reason she loves them and thinks they make ‘boo boos better’. Drama aside, she is rather easy to please and is delighted with anything you set before her. You should see her beam and say thank you even if it's just a piece of tissue paper you’ve given her.

We got to the clinic with not too much ado. Lanes kept repeating to herself that it will just be an ant bite. I was promising her any treat she wants plus cartoon Band-Aids. P was yakking on about his day at work. In our family we love to have three different conversations at the same time.

Lanes decided she wanted a hot dog without the bun as a treat.  I raised an eyebrow but went with the flow because we had her full cooperation. Then next thing you know, boom, she has fallen on the concrete outside the clinic and skinned her knee slightly. Then came the waterworks and it was all downhill from there.

She really wanted a Band-Aid, but I had left them at home (I’m a certified bright spark) in our rush to get out the door for the appointment. I just brushed her knee off and wiped down her hands and promised she can pick whatever designs she wants for her bandages at home.

The good news for her was that after we met the nurse she decided Lanes only needed three of the four shots. She went on to tell us that we should wait for at least 15 minutes in the clinic to make sure there was no reaction to the immunizations and that if Lanes felt sick after we went home to call 911. At that point, P and I both looked a little ill.

Lanes was told to sit on my lap hugging my neck so she doesn’t see the injections coming and I can hold her arm to make sure she won’t move. She gets her dramatic notions from me and at that time, I was filled with fear thinking Lanes will take a swing with her arm and the needle might break. The girl has an amazing right hook.

While this mini nightmare scenario was playing at warp speed in my head, P stood behind me, offering his hand to Lanes, and as the room was turning blue from the headlock I was receiving, I was hoping she was squeezing him as hard as she was me.

When the first injection neared Lanes’, for some reason it struck me how little her arm is and I felt so sorry for her. I clung onto her arm and closed my eyes really tight because I couldn’t bear to see the needle going into her flesh.

Before we knew it she was set to go and she was supposed to get only one sticker but she made out with three on account of the toss she had outside. In the end, she skipped the hotdog, opting instead for a donut with sprinkles. By the time we got to the car she was tired and then wanted to go home instead (much to my relief—donuts before dinner=bad idea).

The next day, she went to preschool with three Band-Aids on her arms and one on her knee. She was excited to give elaborate details, complete with exclaimations to her friends because she was the first one to have had the shots. At the end of the story, she was the brave big kid and I think her friends were frightened. Oh well.

When she got home she whispered to me that I should call her best friend’s mom and tell her that she should get him his vaccinations too. That poor little boy. I’m sure he will be delighted.

Now that that’s done, I’m off to schedule Lanes’ five year old check up, because apparently that’s what I do.  According to Lanes, things like this and dental appointments are all Mamma’s doing. Daddy comes to the rescue. This is why when we’re old and even more decrepit, her darling daddy will be living in her attic (talk about bats in the belfry) and I’ll be checked into the furthest old folk’s home (or insane asylum).

But first, preparations must be made for my cutie pie’s birthday. Although she doesn’t watch Dora (when she was two she had a huge crush on Diego), she wants me to make her a Dora cake. Considering I didn’t start baking until we moved here, there might be an explosion of pink and purple icing on the cake. How do I get myself into these situations?

With that I must sign off and go make a mess in the kitchen with some butter and icing sugar. With my luck my cranky geriatric neighbor will choose that moment to come and complain about how our crazy a$$ ghetto fabulous building is run—her strollers are not in the hallway anymore. Yippee! More musings about building and birthday shenanigans and more from BC next week…

July 16 was my beloved Muttley's death anniversary. I believe strongly in doing good deeds in his memory. If you have a moment, please visit http://www.theanimalrescuesite.com/ and click on the purple button. An animal in need will be fed for free just with one click at no cost to you. Thanks!