The night before Bean-girl's doctor appointment, I told her that I would be taking her out of preschool early the next day so we could go see the doctor.
I reminded her of it again the next morning.
Bean-girl was so psyched! I'm going to get a lollipop! she exclaimed.
And kept exclaiming. By the time we were at the doctor's office she was bouncing off the walls. My little one was stripped down to her diaper, jumping up and down and up and down. I'm going to get a lollipop! I'm going to get a lollipop! At one point she even crawled up on my lap and confided, eyes shining, "I'm excited!"
Oh, it was heartbreaking, her innocent excitement. She didn't know she'd be getting a shot this day. It was time for a hepatitis A booster.
The Bean-girl continued her joyful dance, and Baby Legume sat in her carrier and laughed each time her big sister jumped. (And who knew that my little infant could already laugh like that?)
Bean-girl could barely hold still for the nurse's, and then doctor's, physical exam--so excited was she.
Then it was time for her shot. I stood next to her and held her hand. The nurse drew up fluid in the syringe. I tried to distract the Bean, but she was watching the nurse closely.
Then the nurse slid the needle in, slid it out in one smooth motion, slapped a bandaid on and it was all over. The Bean did not even wince. She watched the whole thing with a detached air of academic interest--hmmm, that looks like a needle going into my leg. Nice bandaid, that.
Then she got to pick her lollipop, and was appropriately thrilled.
That evening she asked if she could go to the doctor's again.
My sweet, funny child. I worried about that shot, and it didn't faze you at all. You take so many things better than your mother does. Preschool, and now vaccines. You're growing up every day--"bigger and stronger" as you like to say. But I am still holding you while I can.