Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Calling the shots

It's a new school year.  Ergo, it's a whole new season of the creeping crud.  And the pre-schooler among us wasn't the first one to be felled by the nasty buggers this time around.  No, no.  That distinction fell to sweet'ums, who spent all of about 1 1/2 hours in a church nursery with a large handful of other kids while Mama attended a Bible study.  (By the bye...I think that I'm just about now getting the idea that there are things that I can do with my time during the day now that has not really been on my radar before.  I had this realization while driving the other day that never in my life had I ever thought of myself as someone who would be a stay-at-homer with the kids; I still don't.  But while I'm muddling my way through this temporary change of pace, I can do things.  During the day.  It's odd and even unsettling in the out-of-my-comfort-zone kind of way.  It's rather like finding yourself stuck in a strange city for a 2-night layover that you hadn't really planned on.  Once you wrap your mind around it, you start to enjoy it.  When you first find yourself in the situation, you're just fuzzily disoriented for a while.)  So the Sprout brought home the first grossness, which I don't even know what you would classify this one as--it's not much of a cold, just grossness.  She believes in share & share alike and so bequeathed me with her yuck.  I'm guessing that she went through the same stuff, so in hindsight, I should have been more willing to give her the non-stop cuddles that she wanted.  As I was sacked out on the couch last night, I was thinking about it and realized "Yeah, now I get why babies want cuddles when they don't feel well.  Cuddles sound good about right now."

As luck would have it, Sprout was scheduled for her 15-month (already?!?) well baby check-up, so we got a two-fer and a free check-up on her ears since these visits are covered 100% by insurance whereas the walk-up clinic is a twenty-spot.  She was also due for her next round of vaccines with this visit, and as she wasn't running a fever, we said "Bring 'em on!" 

Here's where I admit something that has long befuddled me.  Two things actually.  First: Why in the ever-living world do some parents avoid vaccines?  Second:  Why in the ever-living world does it bother some parents to see their child receive the vaccines?

First.  I've heard the arguments against the vaccines.  There's a slight smidge of arsenic in them (as there is in rice, drinking water, and any number of foods in our pantries).  They might contribute to the probability of Autism (a study which has long been disproved and there is no definite research confirming this so-called link).  We don't get it.  There's scads of proven data about how vaccines are beneficial.  And the argument that counters "When is the last time that you've come across anyone with _____?"  True.  It took vaccines to control that, didn't it? 

Second.  What's the problem with seeing your kid get a shot?  Do I need someone else to hold her down while she gets them?  No.  I'll do it.  Because it's not that big of a deal.  I've had shots a'plenty.  Yeah, they sting, but, well, that's it.  It's not excruciating pain.  They're good to go as soon as you pick them up.  The whole ordeal takes about 5 seconds if you have a doctor's office worth their salt who give the shots simultaneously (if there's more than one).  Those 2 fat tears that linger on their cheeks also occur with any number of things, like not being able to play in the garbage.  And I don't feel badly about causing tears in that situation either.  The only time I've ever felt badly about my kid getting a shot was when #1 had to receive one in her thigh for a persistent ear infection that wouldn't go away.  This last resort was one that required 3 people holding her down/giving her the shot, and was one that the medical staff warned me in advance would be "very painful for her."  But again, that one was over in a matter of a few hugs, even though it also had soul-wrenching screams.Vaccine shots, though...pshaw.  So not a big deal. 

And that is going to perhaps categorize me as unfeeling mom #1.  Or, it might be my way of saying "Life hurts, kid.  Get used to it now."  Let's save the anguish for those times when it's more relevant, eh?    

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