Yesterday was H1N1 shot day.
My two had their seasonal flu shots a few weeks ago, and C reacted badly, so we'd been working on tensing up all his muscles, blowing out his breath, and then relaxing his arms so he could have the shot over and done with quickly.
It worked stupendously until the actual moment the doctor came in the office.
And then all hell broke loose.
And I practically had to pile-drive the poor kid again.
Rosey the Roo watched her brother folded in a sobbing mess on the floor, then got up and re-settled herself in the chair next to the doctor. She flopped her arm on the chair and watched (watched!) while the doctor gave her shot, huffing in her breath only when a tiny bead of blood welled up when the needle was removed.
Why do I keep forgetting they're so different?
Before she was born, I thought having two kids would be easier than one - in some ways, am not entirely deluded - but it seems as if the second go around ought to be easier - you're not so stymied by the stages, you have a better understanding of bottles and breastfeeding and toilet-training (or at least it's not a total wander-in-the-wilderness)...it just seems...like...it should be...simpler?
Oh, how the gods laughed.
But sometimes - just sometimes - when they're playing together and giggling over the same things....when their laughter rings out like bells......and their dark heads bend over something....
It's like they're halves of the same whole.