Thursday, October 27, 2011

Over the Hill

Michael and I have a firm agreement in place when it comes to bringing The Bean to various appointments and engagements. I am to handle all appointments involving needles and he is to handle all appointments involving ice cream.

I watched him nearly faint dead away when The Bean was getting her jaundice heel clips that first month and I took pity on him. Why yes, sucker IS tattooed on my forehead, why do you ask?

Yesterday, The Bean turned the big 0-4......months.
(I'm sure I will use that joke again when she turns 4 years old. I ain't skeered.)

On top of our court visit for her to become an emancipated minor; we had a doctor's checkup. Which included weighing, measuring, eyeball checking and hip rotating. These activities apparently translate into infant amusement park. The Bean was all gummy smiles and coy giggles. I had to check the label and make sure I didn't pick up some other person's kid by accident.

But I was holding my breath. Because I am a mother. And a mother knows that at any minute the screams might start and on this particular day the probability for uncontrollable screams is near 99%.

The needles entered the room held innocently enough by a woman clad in happy jack-o-lantern scrubs. The Bean was mesmerized by the orange vomit explosion.

She was off guard when the first needle struck and the second one followed within nanoseconds. The nurse was a pro.

I braced myself.

The Bean turned violently purple.

And then she erupted with a short holler as if to say "do you KNOW who the hell you are messing with?!?!?!"

Then she got quiet...and angry.

She glared at the nurse, "Bitch. You distracted me with your hypnotic pumpkin voodoo shirt. I will SO not be giving you the satisfaction of crying. I save that shit for my mama."

I packed The Bean up and we went on our way.

We got to the car and I handed The Bean her stuffed bug-butterfly-alien-fish toy to occupy her on the way home; hoping a car meltdown wasn't in my future when she finally had a chance to think over the series of events which just occurred.

She bitched to that critter the whole way home. The tone of her babbles indicated she was informing that thing about the injustices of being only 14 lbs and unable to smack a ho.

You're getting a framed one at Thanksgiving, Mom. No need to print.


Nicole J @ Pampers & Pumps said...

I hate baby shots! I dred whent he doctor asks me to hold down B's arms while he jabs at his legs. Sounds like she took it like a champ though. Love the picture!

C (Kid Things) said...

My kids are a bit older and unfortunately can smack a ho. Or kick a ho, depending on the position. Love that picture, and her cute little hat.

Mrs. D-Zo said...

Thanks for the kudos on the photo. I'll pass the kind words to her dad who snapped the shot. One of our favorites too as "flying baby" is The Bean's MOST FAVORITE EVER activity.

Masshole Mommy said...

Oh good lord - don't even get me started on how heartbreaking it is to watch your own kids get shots. I am a basket case every time they are due for one

No Drama Mama said...

Yeeezzzz. They always save the grumps for us. How fun.