A Sucker Doesn't Really Make Up For It

After this morning's annoying snow day (annoying because we'd already had a week off school due to Thanksgiving, and doubly annoying because three inches of snow does not make the roads dangerous in Michigan, people), we had an even more annoying afternoon. We had Annie's long-put-off four-year-old well child checkup. Her pediatrician, whom I really love, had a baby at the end of August, so I opted to wait until she was back to do Annie's check so we could have our usual doc. That, and I had heard that the shot situation at this appointment was dreadful, so I was putting it off as long as possible.

The stats: 30 lbs, 6 oz (which is actually the 20th percentile for girls!), 40 inches tall (strangely, 60th percentile for height). Her doctor wanted to make sure she knew all her colors (um, were we talking about Jemma, because if so, YES) and could count to ten. "I can count to a hundred!" Annie interrupted.

Then, the shots. I told Annie before that there would be shots, and she's actually pretty OK about it all. She gets why she has to have them and she talks a good talk on the way there about how it'll just pinch for a minute and then she'll get a sucker when it's over. (The sucker is from me, not the doctor, who I doubt would be super-proud of a dentist's wife rewarding her children with inappropriate candy, but, whatever.)

There were FIVE. Two nurses came in so they could do it together and it would be over faster. And when Annie looked up at me when I got her on my lap and held her arms tightly against my chest, I pretty much wanted to kill myself rather than have to make her go through it. She screamed, and even though they did it as quickly as they could, it took waaaaaay too long. Jemma was sitting on a bench, watching, yelling, "All Done!" optimistically the whole time.

After it was over, they let her pick a super-special prize for kids who have to get FIVE shots in one day, and she chose a pink poodle dog that doubles as a purse. She's sleeping with it right now; its name is Miss Long Legs. And I did indeed give her a sucker for the ride home, plus let her eat chicken noodle soup for dinner in the living room while watching Strawberry Shortcake. She would whimper and look pitiful every once in a while, and I would sit next to her, stroke her hair, and tell her how brave she was. FIVE. Let's not do that again for a very long time.