I’m having a bad mommy/good mommy sort of day.
First, it was the day of Stinkerbelle’s doctor’s appointment. After a time change, a 9:15 appointment is perhaps not the BEST time to go anywhere with just a short ride in the car, because one just settles in for a nap when one is unceremoniously dragged from the nice warm confines of the car, through the rain, and into a noisy office. And although one remains in the bucket, and begins to settle in during a long-ish wait with a bit of a bottle, and begins to drift off to a comfy sleep… one is pulled from the bucket and stripped naked.
No, that was STINKERBELLE’s morning. Not mine. But that’s not the half of it.
Once she was stripped down to her diaper, the doctor came in. And that’s fine, because the doctor is a man, and Her Babyness loves to flirt. She was all charm and smiles and cooing and breezed through her exam. She had him wrapped around her little finger.
Until he said, “…and the nurse will be in shortly to weigh and measure her and give her her needles.”
So, the pediatrician had called our family doctor on Friday, and they agreed that her vaccinations would all have to be done again. I was in agreement. I had not, however, asked Herself if it was okay.
The doctor left, and the nurse came in. Immediately Stinkerbelle was put out. “Where had the lovely man gone? Why is this woman talking to me and making pen marks on this paper by my head and feet?” She was tolerant, but as you know, it’s all fun and games until somebody tries to pick you up and take you away.
My baby burst into loud, long, shrill wails of panic. Somebody was trying to take her away from her mommy!
I felt bad for her, because she was clearly VERY upset. But secretly? I was THRILLED that my daughter was “making strange”. It means she is starting to bond. She knows me and she wants me. I love that.
So once the weighing was done, she was handed back to me and I calmed her down. She was mad, but she began to forgive me.
The nurse came in with some Tylenol, and told me to give her a dose. And while Stinkerbelle played with the crinkly paper on the exam table, the nurse explained the shot and the possible side effects. Her Babyness might be tired, or irritable, or have a low-grade fever. I was to call them if there was anything at all I was concerned about. And then she told me to hold my daughter’s leg firmly, one hand at the top near her hip and the other above her knee.
The next wail, this one of pain, rang out through the office. But she was not done. She needed a shot in the other leg, too. More wailing. Big, sad tears.
I picked her up to comfort her. She was furious with me. I had betrayed her tiny trust. I was a Bad Mommy.
Once she was calmer, I put her down to dress her. I felt pretty bad. There were little blood stains on my shirt where her legs had been. There was a big wet patch where she had cried big tears into my chest as she looked for comfort.
I got her dressed and packed her into her car seat, and we headed out.
We stopped off quickly at the grocery store. She fell asleep a few minutes into the trip, somewhere in the bakery aisle, a combination of the need for a nap, the trauma of the morning, and the effects of the Tylenol and needles. And she slept hard for the next hour.
She woke up happy sometime after 11, in her car seat in the middle of the foyer, two of her cats checking up on her. She grinned at me, and I think she had forgiven me.
For the rest of the day, she is perfectly content to lie quietly playing on a blanket in front of her favourite video, as long as Mommy does not leave her sight. She’s tired, she’s feeling off, but she’s the happy baby we know and love.
But she needs her mommy — the Good Mommy — nearby at all times, just in case. And hey, spending a quiet day on standby for snuggles with my beautiful girl… Can’t think of a better way to spend the day than that.