I remember back in the day (maybe all of two or three years ago, that is), when the thought of two shots meant the start of a good night. Now? It means a couple of needles and a screaming, red-faced baby. Either way, I end up feeling sick, so I'd like to skip both scenarios from now on, thankyouverymuch.
Today we took our monthly trip to the Pulmonologist for Brigid's RSV shot. I hate driving to this office, and it's always so crowded, and we basically just sit around waiting a really long time for a nurse practitioner to shoot up my kid, so I'm glad cold and flu season is almost over. One more month of these shots, and then we're done. Finally. Don't get me wrong, I have really enjoyed our sickness free (so far...knock on wood, fingers crossed, rabbit foot, horsehoe, four-leaf clover, etc) winter, and I am so grateful that insurance approved us for these shots, but I think it will make life a little easier when monthly office visits are off the table.
Anyway, because Brigid now weighs in at just over the 15 pound mark, she has to take two RSV shots. The shots are doled out based on weight, and the nurse can only put so much medicine into one muscle, so we officially qualify for holes in both thighs. I thought she was pissed after getting shot in one thigh. Two thighs? If she could walk, I'm pretty sure she would have run from me for letting them do this horrible thing to her. The poor child was inconsolable. Well, until we got in the car...then she took her longest nap of the day, all 20 minutes of the ride home.
(Have I mentioned what a terrible napper she is? Seriously, it's awful. Aw-ful.)
Also? I'm pretty sure I accidentally passed myself off as a single mother in the waiting room before we were called back for the shots. I left my stroller in Steve's car (it's actually in the garage, but I thought it was in Steve's car), so I was struggling to juggle all of the stuff that comes with a baby's trip anywhere, when one of the other mother's stopped to pick up my dropped sunglasses. I thanked her, apologized for being a mess, and told her, in what may have been a slightly snarky voice, "My stroller is in her father's car. I called him and told him we should have done a transfer, but it was too late." She looked at me with a little too much sympathy for something as simple as a missing stroller. Unless she just really, really likes strollers.
Whatever. I found it pretty funny. Actually, I'd consider it the highlight of my afternoon, that's how entertained I was by the thought.
Which is kind of sad, now that I think about it. So, yeah. Hope your day was more interesting than mine...
Hang in there with the nap thing! It does get better. I never really pushed it because he slept through the night and I didn't want to screw that up. T rarely slept more than 30-45 min at nap times when he was small. Around 6mos he worked up to about an hour twice a day. Once he moved to only one nap at a little over a year, it has gone from 1.5 to 3 hours depending on the day and what has happened that week. We usually have 3-4 days of 3 hours and sometimes wake him to make sure he'll still go to be at 8. Good Luck!
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