Shot Night

Tonight is shot night.  Boo!

Today has turned sour on the parenting front, so I'm focusing instead on something I need to do while one child screams in his crib (YOU CAN'T MAKE ME NAP!) and the other yells at me from her time-out (I'M NEVER GOING TO STOP YELLING!)  Fine.  Stay in time-out.

Here's the routine for shots...

At some point in the evening I remember it's shot night and I whine about it.

Put kids to bed.  At this rate I'm thinking 4:00 instead of the usual 7:00.  That may change.  I'm a little bitter right now.

Take my pile of Rebif-related stuff from the top shelf of the pantry and narrowly miss knocking the red biohazard bin.  It's only a bin full of used needles that could come tumbling down onto my face.  No big deal.  And yet I still haven't moved it.  Playing with fire here, I tell you...

Rebifers get a shot journal to record injection sites (we have to rotate), days / times, and reactions.  I scan to find a place I haven't done in a while (as if the red splotches on my body aren't telling enough) and place a little x on the drawing of a person.  Right thigh.  Ugh.

Side note:  The yelling has switched to a relationship status update.  Apparently we're not friends anymore.  (Sigh)

Back to shots...  Heat (warm washcloth), prep the auto-injector, insert the syringe, clean the site with an alcohol pad, grab one of Jason's hands or the counter for a death squeeze, inject the medicine with my other hand, hold the needle in place for the longest 10 seconds of my life, swear like a sailor, remove needle, massage the area with a cotton pad to disperse the meds, continue swearing because it burns and I'm a baby.

Jacob had a flu shot last week and didn't even flinch.  Who is this kid?  You're making me look bad, Baby.  At least give it a whimper!  Even Emily remembered that shots hurt and was sure to confirm she was NOT getting a shot before entering the exam room.  She reiterated this point with the nurse when she arrived.  "Just Jacob.  Not me today."  That's my girl...  She gets her control freak gene from me, of course.

I do the shots myself.  Even the awkward left-handed-hip-at-a-weird-angle shot because I can't handle having someone else do it.  See?  Control freak.

Aaaahhhh...  No more crying.  Sleeping baby.  Thank you, Jacob.  Wait...  It's too quiet.  Time to go check on the toddler time-out:

"Em, Are you ready to be sweet?"
"NOTHING!   I'm not doing anything!" 

That can't be good...   At this rate my shot may not be the low point of the day.  6:00 bedtime for sure!

He Said the (Beep) Word!

Why are bad words so fascinating??  Even the ones identified as "not very nice" make the world stop spinning for a moment when heard by a child.  I've been stopped in the cafeteria more than once by a tattling student.  "Oooooohhhhh!!!!  She said the S word!!!!"  Come to find out the word was "stupid."  How vulgar!!

I was testing a student yesterday and used two CD tracks to administer auditory processing subtests.  One of the tasks involves a man's voice saying words with missing parts.  The student is asked to tell me the word the person is trying to say after they hear two beeps.  Example:  (Beep) rabbi_ (beep, beep)...  (beep) chi__en (beep, beep)...

The boy I was testing yesterday was shocked by this.  "He's saying A LOT of bad words!  He's talking about a dirty chicken!"  He was convinced the beeps were the same censor beeps he has heard on television.  When you think of it that way, the audio recordings are tough to listen to without chuckling.  This is particularly true if you're an eight year old boy!  I spent the next 20 minutes trying to keep him on task.

I told this story to my husband last night.  His response was, "What's the test called??  The Woodcock-Johnson?  Now that's funny!"  Apparently boys don't grow out of this.

I have to admit I was laughing, too!

My Private Investigator

Em is a little fascinated by private parts these days.  This is certainly not abnormal toddler behavior, but I still find it somewhat uncomfortable at times.  Her shirt won't even be off for two seconds before she's trying to tune in Tokyo and I've caught her more than once doing some serious exploration on the potty. 

Tonight she noticed something new...  I was in the middle of changing Jacob's diaper when Emily ran into the kitchen then returned with her stepstool for a better view.  She was stunned.

"What... is... that???"
"What?"
Waiting for toddler comedy...  This should be good.

"THAT!"
Pointing and staring in utter confusion.  Where's my camera?!

My friends and I have talked about this moment.  What do you call it when they ask?  Pee pee?  Boy parts?  My personal favorite:  "Pieces and part?"  A few moms I know used the accurate terminology.  I'm just not cool enough to be OK with my kid using penis and vagina in everyday conversation yet.  I went with the safe answer.  "Those are Jacob's private parts."  Emily was studying him at this point and then began to tell me her observations aloud while I finished the diaper change.

"My private part goes up and down like this." (Drawing imaginary line between her legs)
"Uh-huh."

"His goes out.  It's out like this." (Finger puppet. I'm bursting with giggles at this point)
"Yep.  Boy parts and girl parts are different."

That was explanation enough... for now.  I'm sure it's just a matter of time before the questions and commentary start rolling in.  Likely in public, of course.  This will be the next hot topic.  Right now she's all about questioning bathroom behavior.  For the record, I have no idea how many times her preschool teachers use the bathroom each day.  I went with 5.  Please don't ask me about their private parts!