My little girl is known for having a flair for the dramatic. Honestly, I have no idea where she gets it from, but I digress. Jenny will go ballistic over a tiny bump on the knee. She will whimper over the freckle on her leg and insist that she needs to put a band-aid on it. She frets when I bruch her hair and she yells when we brush her teeth. But not today.
Today, my Jenny astounded me. Today, she got her flu shot and didn't whimper or cry in the least.
Tim and I teamed up today to take Jenny to the doctor's office for her annual flu shot. We packed an extra pacifier in case the first one fell on the floor while Jenny was sobbing. We packed a juice cup and four packs of fruit snacks, because we were certain this flu shot was going to be an ordeal.
We pull up to the doctor's office and there is practically no one in the parking lot. "Okay," I think to myself, "as least no one will be here to witness me breaking all the mommy rules" (Don't soothe with food, don't enable the binky addiction, etc.) And I'm thankful that no one will see my tears as it breaks my heart to hear "that" cry - the cry of pain that I cannot fix.
My hand shakes a bit as I fill out the paperwork, asking me if Jenny has asthma or an egg allegry. At one point, I hesitated - how do I spell my name again? Still, a whole one minute later, I have the page read and signed and turned over to the receptionist. She smiles sweetly at us (she must know how worried I am for Jenny) and she points us to the yellow sign.
Since it it only us, the nurse - a very sweet and unexperienced looking YOUNG girl - gestures us to a room where the exam table has a stack of stickers. "Oh good," I think to myself. "They're prepared for our little banchee to scream. Maybe the stickers will keep the volume level from becoming deadly to all within a mile radius."
Up on the table, coat off, Jenny watches the nurse pull out the syringe. She gets little nervous as the nurse swipes her arm with the alcohol swab and I brace myself for the shriek.
But it never comes. Jenny doesn't even flinch. The nurse put on a Scooby-Doo band-aid and tells Jenny to pick out a sticker for being such a good girl.
Jenny just starts talking like the flu shot was just some minor pause in a long conversation she's been meaning to have with us about something related to Jeff Wiggle falling asleep again. No tears, no whimper, no "Mommy, I want to hold you." Just a blip.
Wow.
After Jenny's appointment, we went to get Mommy's blood drawn. Jenny wanted to watch what the nurse was doing to Mommy very closely. She wasn't scared at all. Tim was more disturbed by the it than Jenny was. Jenny just kept asking me what the nurse was doing.
Wow.
My little girl manages to surprise me in so many ways. I'm constantly amazed by her. Constantly.
