You see, I have always been one of those people that secretly rolled their eyes when moms talked about crying at their children's doctors appointments. I always thought "Suck it up! They have to go. What's the big deal?" So Friday when my sister had to take my nephew to the doctor I volunteered to go to entertain him. Ha, this is where I set my own trap. Mom mentioned that he would be getting a finger prick and a shot but I didn't think anything of it. Honestly, I was just excited about the lollipop at the end, that his 9 month old self couldn't enjoy, but auntie could!
We walked into the doctor and I sat in the waiting room while Sara went to make a bottle. They choose this moment to call us back.
First thing, the finger prick... He whimpered but put on a brave face and flirted and smiled at the nurse. They gave him an awesome spaceship band aid that kept him busy for most of the developmental questions.
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| He really wanted that thing off his finger! |
The doctor tortured him a little more and counted his teeth and made him super grouchy and then said we could get him dressed. I thought "Well this isn't so bad. Mom's are so dramatic."
Little did I know...
The nurse walks in and told Sara to lay him down for his shot. He is smiling and cooing and flirting and melting my heart like he does and she stabbed him! He looked so betrayed and then burst into tears. REAL tears. So what does Auntie do? Burst into tears. REAL tears.
At the moment I wanted to hurt whoever was hurting him. I had this instinct to take him and protect him and all that "Well it has to be done..." went out the window. How did this munchkin do this to me? Who am I? I seem to be getting softer the more I hang with this kid.
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