Tell me why I thought it would be no problem to take Mr. Attitude to the doctor's office for his vaccinations, which he needed by the 24th, or a philosophical objection, to be admitted to kindergarten.
In retrospect, it would have been a lot easier to get the objection notarized and be done with it. That's what I did with Starflower. And I do have one friend whose daughter died of reactions to vaccines, so vaccination is a careful choice around here.
But this is not about the choice. This is about, WHY CAN'T MY KIDS BE NORMAL ONCE IN A WHILE?
After I picked them up from school (Starflower and Attitude; Calvin took the bus) we had about 45 minutes to kill before the appointment. So, I thought, why don't we go down to Robinson Park along the river and do a short hike? I always wanted to see how far the trail went along the river, and I heard there was a bat cave somewhere in the vicinity. So off we went. We made it to what must be the end of the trail, and what looked at the surface to be the entrance to a pretty darn big bat cave. Since I personally don't like bats, and we had to get to the clinic on time, I discouraged Starflower and Mr. Attitude from further investigation. But, oh for cool. I like rock outcrops, and a CAVE! wow.
So off to the clinic we went, where we were informed that one doctor had been called out for a birth (totally forgivable) so they were running late. However, Mr. Attitude and waiting rooms do not get along well. He played with the toys they had for a while, but he was more interested in the public phone, and trying to turn off the lights to the room. I kept my temper in check.
We were finally called in to an examining room, where I was reminded why it is inadvisable to bring more than one offspring into such situations. They had raided the rubber gloves, and were filling them at the sink, when I drew the line.
I was just trying to get Mr. Attitude to sit still. I was just maybe falsely expecting some kind of reasonable behavior. I warned him three times. But all hell broke loose when I snapped and said "Okay. We will NOT go for ice cream on the way home! You had been warned!"
So I was left holding a hopelessly out of control five year old who was crying for ice cream, while in turn the nurse came in and did her thing, and then the doctor came in and tried to ask me all the standard questions, which I could barely hear over the screaming. Then came the shots. I would have liked to ask a few more questions about why these things were necessary, but I cannot carry a conversation when my kid is screaming his lungs off.
Then, as we were leaving, I realized the nurse had not given me the very vaccination form I had come to get completed, so my son could stay in kindergarten. I went back into the examining room halls, but everyone had disappeared. I was in tears at that point. Oh well, I will tell them to forward all the necessary info the the school. We had done our part.
Did I tell you Starflower, when the nurse was trying to check Mr. Attitude's blood pressure, was pumping on his elbow?
I did a good job. I kept my composure, although strangling my offspring certainly seemed like a possibility. Good thing we were in a semi public place.