The Hordling’s doctor is pretty smart. You see him in one room, then go to a different room where nurses stick needles in the wee ones, staring in their eyes the whole time. Prevents the whole “I hate the doctor” thing that goes on even with the youngest kids who realize that the office and the man with the stethoscope are nasty.
The Hordling herself is pretty tough. She only starts to cry after getting a second shot, and if she only gets two (unlike some visits where she’s had four), she’ll only whine for a minute.
We decided not to circumcise RuffLlama, so thankfully we missed out on this level of Hell.
He had some moments yesterday of hard, panicked crying, but by evening was feeling much better. The correct dosage of Tylenol seemed to help, and I also gave him a bath with “Night Time” baby wash made with lavender and chamomile. He was quiet all evening, though very alert–he didn’t fall asleep until 11pm. But we’ll take that over the other night’s near inconsolable crying anytime.
He’s going to Disneyland today (DeathLlama scored free tix through his work), so this ought to be interesting. Good thing the tix are free; we won’t feel like we HAVE to stay.
Mine are younger - at the age where I say “where is my son, its getting dark. Damn, bike is gone. Hope he hasn’t gone too far.”
My daughter is busy (at six) setting herself up for her middle school drama. You know, the one where the girl you thought was your “best friend” in kindergarten dumps you for more popular people and you spend three months crying. I see it coming, I can’t stop it, I know how painful it will be. I just keep hoping the little girl who is the subject of her crush moves away before it happens.
If you knew the hell that is parenting, you’d have gotten a puppy. 'Cause it don’t get better. (Kidding, they are USUALLY worth it).
Heh heh Dangerosa…DeathLlama and I are both middle school teachers so we are very, VERY familiar with the tween-girl-drama thing. Part of the reason we’re glad we had a boy.
Everyone has been telling us since he was first born that “It gets easier.” Maybe some of it does, but we’re not worried about him crashing the car or setting his ass on fire in a Jackass-type stunt at the moment, either.
Ruffian, I hope it will be better next time. Number 2 had his two months shots about three months ago (4 shots at once) and the next day it was fine, he didn’t even cry that much at the time of his 4 shots.
When the babies won’t sleep, it’s really hard. I wonder what was bugging him? I remember with number 1 (who is know 3 1/2) that he would cry for long periods of time as a child (mabye up to 30 minutes), but number 2 loves to suck his thumb (something number 1 never did) and he hasn’t had a big crying jag so far.
I hear the reverse. The guy that sits next to me has two boys, and he’s often told me “Enoy them now, at whatever age they are, because it keeps on getting worse!”
I won’t even repeat what the guy at work with six boys has to say.
I was smart enough to stop at two kids. You have my sympathies.
(I will say, so far my son is much easier than my daughter, although we’ve been to the ER four times and he’s only nine. Five if you count the walk-in emergency clinic whle on vacation last year.)
I let my two nurse right through their shots as infants, which I expect made it easier. By the time the nine month shots rolled around for Eldest and from the beginning for Youngest, I gave them Motrin before the shot, usually right after they were weighed that visit. It is also good to find the nurse in the office that gives them the fastest.
This does not make them like shots. But it does help. When they get older, I strongly recommend telling them when they are going to get a shot, and that it is going to hurt, and that it won’t hurt long, and that it is better than getting sick. You will find that they tend to react abotu as you expect them to, parenting is far more of a two way street than anybody ever warned me about. So think of this as development exercises for those mommy Nerves Of Steel.
I hate the baby shots. I hate that moment when the pain kicks in and they look at you with How could you DO this to me??? in their little eyes.
For my older one, it has gotten better. The little guy, though, equates the doctor’s office with misery and, even when we are there for a no-shot well visit, spends the entire time screaming at the top of his lungs and saying No No No. Makes it difficult to talk to the doctor about any concerns because I just want to get the hell out of there.
Oh, yes, I remember that. The way he conveyed, “Daddy! You let them hurt me!” in the pain in his eyes.
Broke a grown man’s heart, it did.
These days, though, I wonder if it wasn’t growth hormone they were pumping into him. He’s not even 16 yet, and the doctor’s latest estimate for his eventual height is 6’4".
Ow ow ow, you just brought back one of the most painful memories of my life, when we rushed our two month old daughter to the ER one midnight with 104 fever and she had to get a spinal tap. I helped hold her for that. I would rather have submitted to any torture than that.
It’s odd, but I don’t remember being afraid of shots as a child, just as an adult.
The pediatrician I went to would tell jokes, funny stories, talk like Donald Duck, and make balloon animals for us kids. He’d get us so involved in a story we wouldn’t hardly notice when he jabbed us, we were waiting forthe punchline.
