Not Such a Marvelous Morning for the 2 Big Kids

Poor Caleb. Poor Audrey.

They both had well-checks yesterday morning. It was not a pretty sight. Both kids are healthy, though. Caleb weighs 43 lbs. and is 41.5 inches tall. Audrey weighs 30 lbs. and is 36.5 inches tall. That was the easy part.

Then came the finger sticks.

You'd think the nurse was trying to cut their fingers off the way they carried on. Lots of tears and lots of boo-hooing.

The physical exams were fine - the doctor commented on Audrey's vocabulary and sentences and laughed at Caleb's "jerk" story. Here's the story:
All 5 of us were in the car and I was driving Steve back to work after meeting him for lunch. We were at a stoplight in the left turn lane when a guy on a bicycle came zipping up between all the cars and stopped in front of us to turn left. I said, "What a j-e-r-k!" to which Caleb replied immediately: "Mommy, did you just spell jerk?" I was flabbergasted and asked him why he thought that was the word I spelled. He said, "Because jerk has a 'k' in it." When I asked him how he knew that he said, "jerk" with emphasis on the "k". So no more spelling j-e-r-k.

After the physical exams came the shots. Audrey was first and got only 1 in her leg. Not too much of a problem. Just some tears and some boo-hoos. Then came Caleb. He had to get 3 shots in his arms. The nurse brought in another nurse to hold the kids. Holding Audrey wasn't so much of a problem, but she had Caleb in a full hold in a chair. He was screaming, "I want my Mommy!" and was fighting. Audrey was screaming at this point because Caleb was screaming. I was feeling about 1 inch tall.

So after all was said and done and the nurses had left the room, the kids sat with me and cried rather loudly for a couple of minutes. They kept on crying as we checked out, but as soon as we got out into the hall, they both were fine. At this point they knew that the shots were all the way over and that it was ice cream time.

Julie was at home with Mrs. Karen, thankfully. I couldn't have handled another kid, even a buckled-in-her-carseat docile one.