After Cole's check up the nurse came in and gave Cole his shot. He whimpered. Over. Done. Not a big deal. Jace was next. I told the nurse she might want some help. I picked up Jace and he started screaming, crying, and yelling at me telling me he didn't want it. He locked his legs around my waist and I was doing everything I could to pry his legs off and get his pants down to expose his thigh. It wasn't working. The doctor peeked his head in and asked if we needed "reinforcement." Indeed we did. So a second nurse came in and she pinned his legs over the end of the exam table, I pinned his arms and upper body down, the other nurse pulled his pants down and poked him with that mean needle. Bloody Murder ensued.
The nurses left and I was left with the aftermath. I heard lots of various complaints and screaming and crying. I had to laugh to myself because when we're in the doctor's office you can always hear the new babies crying after they get their shots, and I think, "The poor things." But this time everyone was hearing my very determined and upset 3 year old telling me how much the needle hurt and how much he didn't like doctors.
As we were leaving the exam room, (still crying and hollering) the doctor and nurses were sitting just outside the door and Jace so delicately informed them as he left, "I don't like doctors anymore, AT ALL!" They had a good chuckle. As did I.
I'm sorry, Jace. I still do love you (even though I made you get pricked by that mean needle). After all, it was for the greater good.