We had a doctor's appointment today for both of the girls to get shots. Let me stop here and say that this says much more about how much better I'm handling life these days than anything else ever could, especially since back in Genevieve's newborn sickly-baby days, immediately following the first time I had to take her to the doctor with Josie in tow, I tweeted this:
In the waiting room, where we waited an hour and a half in a PACKED house (which really never happens there), Josie made friends with a bunch of kids, played, jumped, and generally had a much fun as she does at a library storyhour. Much fuss was made about Genevieve's cute Santa jammies and general cuteness. A nurse from our office finally ended up hustling us into an open room in the doctor's office next door because they were so slammed, and Josie waved good-bye to all her new friends like a beauty queen. Things were going well.
We had had long talks before the appointment about how Josephine would get her shot first so she could be brave and show her little sister that it was no big deal. When the nurse came in with the shots, Josephine just climbed right up on the table and started shoving her legs in the direction of the nurse, even though I was still trying to sign all the paperwork. She said, "Josie ready for a little poke!" (I know -- I have a hard time saying it out loud, but a nurse called it that a few months ago and now Josie uses the term and ... ugh ... but, whatever.) She was ready.
She got the shot without flinching, then said, "Josie got a little poke. Didn't hurt at all. See sister?" and when I pulled her pants back on, she hopped down, and said, "Josie all ready!"
Seriously. She was a rockstar. Why I was worried is beyond me, since she only cried with ONE vaccination her entire life. ONE. And it was really just a few-second wail that ended abruptly when she said, "Got a poke. Where's sticker?" the kid is just tough as freaking nails. I seriously worried that she had that "doesn't feel pain" disease when she got her first one as a newborn and was like "What?"
So, Josie gave Genevieve a pep talk, I got her all ready, then hid my face and told her to look at the nurse (The nurse gives the shot, not me, so don't be looking in my eyes while you feel pain, kid! I'll swoop in when the shot is over and save you! I'm the good one! REMEMBER THAT.), and poke, ten seconds of crying, everyone is fine. Nurse leaves the office telling two sweet girls that they are brave and awesome. I was feeling pretty dang good.
I told Josephine she needed to put on her coat so we could leave, and, I swear, I could see it in her eyes: panic, but quick thinking was afoot.
Then ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE.
Josephine screamed bloody murder, ran away, and wedged herself between a table and the garbage can, frantically screaming "NO GO HOME! I WANT TO PLAAAAAAAAAAY! WE LIKE IT HERE!!!!! SEE DDDDDDOOOOOCCCCCCTTTTTTOOOOOORRRRRRRRR!!! PLAY PLAY PLAY!!!!!"
Her screaming made Genevieve wail, and all attempts to get her coat on her while whispering gently in her ear were failing miserably. Finally I gave up, scooped her up into my lap, and started trying to force her coat on her arms, all while saying sweet things in her ear.
Here's where I almost lost it, but the reason I almost lost it is because I almost starting laughing. While she continued to to shout "SEE MY DOCTOR! SEE MY DOCTOR!" through the tears and snot, she employed two techniques: her old standard, "the melt" and a new one I have never seen before. She pressed her palms together, as if in prayer, and LOCKED them there. No pulling on my part could get her hands apart, and therefore I couldn't put her coat on her arm, could I?
I know, highly unprofessional, but I almost lost it. Where did she learn that? And dang, that girl is nothing if she isn't persistent and creative. Good for her, anyway.
In the meantime, she was thrashing around like I was performing an exorcism and Genevieve's wailing was picking up steam. I finally got the coat on her, grabbed our stuff, grabbed the carseat, hoisted Josie up onto my hip, and threw open the door to run out of there. Here's the only moment that actually made me mad all day: As I opened the door, there stood two nurses, mouths hanging open, staring at me like I was a murderer, and one was SHAKING HER HEAD at me. COME ON, even if this is your first week in the biz, I imagine you have heard at least one two-year-old meltdown. Cut me a freakin' break.
I told them she was actually crying because she didn't want to leave. They looked even more disgusted with me. We ran.
THEN she realized she hadn't gotten a sticker for her efforts, and boy howdy, that was not going to fly. I ran her into our office and to the window, where I was ignored by the new receptionist (I am not a fan), so I let myself back and told one of our favorite nurses that Josephine didn't get a sticker. Two of them fell all over themselves giving her stickers. She took her sweet time choosing one, and again, we ran.
So many tears. So much snot. Not because of the shot. NOOO, because she was HAVING TOO MUCH FUN AT THE DOCTOR'S OFFICE. On top of that, she was pissed that she didn't actually get to see her doctor. (We love our doctor. Love her, love her, lover her. Josephine has always enjoyed going to see the doctor, but our new doctor? Man. At our last visit, Josephine climbed up on a stool so she could be eye to eye with her while she hugged her.)
Seriously. I'm having too much fun getting shots! Take me back! Take me back!
Love her. Love this crazy kid.
OH, and P.S. I am still VERY INTERESTED to hear your Christmas book recommendations.