Thursday, August 10, 2006


The scene: a practially all white room with some pictures of Nemo & Co. pasted to the wall.

The suspect: a seemingly nice lady who is smiling at you, putting cold metal things on your chest, lifting you up and laying you down again, squeezing your tummy, and chatting away with your mom.

The other suspect: your mom.

The crime: after being so nicely complimented on how great you look and how well you are doing you receive a very sharp stab into your right leg which is quickly followed by a similar stab to the left. You cry out in protest! What was that! Except you seem to recall that this has happened before. Yes! This has happened before! Let the flood gates open, let the tears rain down and the screams echo forth.

My sweet babe is getting to the point where it's not the shots that are the most horrible part of going to the doctor. It's that I would actually stand by and allow the shots to happen.


  1. It's harder for me to watch the doctor administer the shot. I end up crying more than the baby does. It's hard to watch someone stab your child with a big needle. I wish they'd be a bit more gentle sometimes.

  2. I've become more hardened with each child. I still don't like it, but I don't have to have Ben come with me anymore!