With all of the excitement of my birthday last week, I forgot to write about a major event in our little girl's life. (Weezy, please forgive Mama for being so self-absorbed.) Our sweet, darling, gorgeous baby girl had her first shots and I mean to tell you- they nearly killed me. (There I go being self-absorbed again. Sorry.) Ugh! It was awful! The whole experience was stressful. We started the day off smoothly. I swallowed my nervousness and focused on getting us ready and out the door by a reasonable time. This, I've learned, is often easier said then done. Most of the time I can get Eloise and myself up, fed, dressed, and ready to go within an hour and a half. I have a complicated system involving boobs, burps, bouncy seats, and bribery. The system works like clockwork... until it doesn't. Then all hell breaks loose. The system generally hangs-up when we have another B-word; blow-out. Blow-outs are a real bitch (to continue with the B-theme). On the morning of Eloise's first shots she had not one, not two, but three blow-outs and a spit-up. That is four outfits, people! It is no wonder the laundry is never done.
Once we finally got out the door, I started the drive into the city. Eloise is not in love, or really even in like, with her car-seat. Like her mother, she cannot be bound. So she cried until I remembered her affection for country music. As Kenny Rogers (she is an old school gal) crooned in the back-ground, Weezy softly snored in the back seat and I battled Monday afternoon San Francisco traffic. We left at 2:00pm for our 3:00pm appointment. At 2:50pm I finally pulled in front of the parking garage which is conveniently located about ten feet from the pediatric building entrance.
Or rather it would have been convenient if the lot had not been full. I panicked. I had counted on Brake's TomTom to direct me this far and I didn't know how to reprogram while stuck in traffic. Horns honking and TomTom's clipped British voice chirping, "You have reached your destination. You have reached your destination," I made a snap decision and randomly turned left. Then right. Then left again. I am not the best driver under optimal circumstances. The traffic, the appointment time, and my anxiety about her immunizations proved to be too much and by the time I found another parking garage and I had hiked six blocks with Weezy sloshing around in her sling, I was a sweating, swearing mess.
While in the waiting room I noticed another mom calm, cool, and collected with her baby who looked to be about Weezy's age. In her bag I spied (I am nosy like that) Baby Tylenol. Crap! The one thing the appointment reminder nurse had told me was to remember to give Weezy Tylenol before her shots so that they would not hurt too badly. I was a bad mom. I forgot. Sigh.
Once in the appointment I began to relax. We saw Eloise's pediatrician, whom we adore. We were supposed to transfer to the office 10 minutes from our house once Weezy's jaundice cleared up, but we like Dr. A. so much that I bear the drive to the city for her appointments. I liked this part of the day. This was where Dr. A. told me that my perfect girl is adorable and healthy. I know that all parents think their kid is aces, but I think we can all agree that the Weez is truly, exceptionally cute yet also brilliantly beautiful. Dr. A. certainly seems to think so. That lady has got great taste!
Then the moment I'd been dreading for days: the needle (dunh, duh, dunh, duh)! Weezy was scheduled to get three shots and a nasal vaccine. The needle was huge! It seemed several inches long. Now my girl has got luscious thighs, but I still don't see how a needle that long did not pierce bone. When the needle bit, Weezy went strait as an arrow, screamed louder than she had ever screamed before and her poor face turned beet-red. By the time needle two and three hit her I too was bright red with tears in my eyes. Crying tears, you ask? No, tears of laughter. I, the worst mom in the world, was having one of my very-typical (unfortunately) inappropriate reactions. I was laughing almost as loudly as she was crying. The poor nurse must have thought I was nuts, and as soon as we could we hightailed it out of the injection room (What an awful name!) into a private exam room where Eloise had a little nosh and I loved my poor baby with food to finish off my A+ parenting for the day.
On the way home Weezy slept and I pulled myself together. Brakes was waiting for us with open arms and we spent the rest of the night huddled together with our little baby putting compresses on her bitty bruises and doling out baby Tylenol. She didn't get a fever, which is what I was so worried about, she was just a little more sensitive than usual. All in all, she handled her shots really well, though I think she would agree, perhaps Daddy should take her next time.