flu shots and the healing power of a mcdonalds playplace

Today was the big day. I finally got all my boys signed up and scheduled for their yearly flu shots. I talked about it in depth all morning, then all 20 minutes from picking up the oldest from school early to the doctor's office. Everything from where to how to how much it would hurt ('just a little pinch sweetie. if you hold really still, you might not feel it at all.' wink, wink, hint, hint.) to who would do it and who would go first or second or third. I mention this because we were ubber-prepared. Not just a little. I was considerate and patient. I fed my boys lunch, got them an early quiet time, got them to the doctor's office the full recommended 15 minutes early. They quietly (okay, not quietly), calmly walked back to the doctor's office. They were joking and smiling. I told them we could go to mcdonald's after for a treat if they were really brave and acted appropriately (ie. no jumping off the walls in public. we save crazy for home, thank you very much)

I had the forms all filled out and signed. Everyone was calm and mostly happy. Then I asked who wanted to go first. Oldest had said he wanted to earlier, so I turned to him, and in my best peppy voice said, 'are you ready?' Oldest looked at me with look of abject horror and said 'I changed my mind.'

I do my peppy voice again, telling him all the sweet things you're supposed to say. You're so brave, you're doing great. Close your eyes sweetie. You can do it, almost there.

Oldest screamed bloody murder as soon as he saw the needle laying on the tray next to him, and continued through the entire administration of said shot. Scared his brothers spitless. No one wanted to go after that. They were all sobbing, shaking after seeing that. And that's where it kinda went downhill. Had to pin down my 22mnth old's quivering two and half foot frame. Then I had to pin down my 5yrold. At this point, all I could hear was screaming. And not just your run of the mill screaming. This was full throttle terrified, I-am-dying kind of screaming.

We all get out of there in one piece. Three out of the four are doing that weird post-cry breathing thing that makes it sound like someone's choking (side-note: the oldest, who started all this, is notably NOT crying or making any such post-choking noises. He is, in fact, calmly enjoying his complimentary sugar free rainbow sucker.), and the fourth has his back to me. I'm busy putting coats on and handing out well-meaning encouragement, so I don't notice what the nurse notices first.

'You look a little pale there buddy....you wanna sit down?'

I turn around as 5yrold says 'Okay' as his knees practically buckle right there, maybe a foot away. Said nurse catches him and moves him to the couch. She's right. He's white as a sheet.

I feel a little guilty for the sudden giggle that threatens to erupt right now. This will be 10x funnier many years down the road, but it's still a little funny now, not so much in the ha-ha kind of way, but more just the real kind of way.... you know?

(i know.... i'm a terrible mother :)

Anyway, 5minutes later, his color has returned, he's discovered he loves sunny-d, and we're in the car and on our way to mcdonalds, where we will spend a glorious 40 minutes sipping on chocolate milk shakes and climbing through the playplace (which has its' own helicopter, by the way). 5yrold makes an astute observation on the way there.

'Shots do hurt.'