Yesterday started out innocently enough: I taught, J played with the babysitter, I got home, we both had lunch, we went to the doctor's office. And then the day started to go off the rails, because at the 6 month check up, we get more shots. Lots of shots. And a hemoglobin finger stick, too, just for kicks and giggles (and to check for anemia). J passed the exam itself with flying colors: 90th percentiles all around! The doctor asked him if mommy was feeding him steak. HA HA. You don't think I'm not a teensy bit concerned he weighs 20 lbs 5 ounces at 6 months? Thanks for pouring salt in that particular wound, you lovely pediatrician you! But then came the shots, which he DID NOT LIKE, as evidenced by his much screaming, his total bewilderment at the nice nurses who just hurt him, and then his immediate succumbing to emotional trauma exhaustion as soon as I started the car. So I drove him around awhile to let him calm down, we ran some errands, went home to pick up the husband (who was home from work at 4pm on a weekday?!!), and had some barbecue because it's too hot to cook.
And we went home and played with J and waited for the home teachers to arrive, and things seemed to be back on track, though it was well past J's bedtime, but his schedule had been off all day so that was fine. After the guys had been there a half hour or so, J got more obviously tired so I took him in to put him to sleep. He drank his bottle, dozed off, and was ready to be put down. I lifted him up to burp him, and he woke up...and started screaming. And screaming and screaming and SCREAMING and then screaming some more. I tried rocking, singing, playing, walking, but nothing was working so I handed him over to the husband (home teachers still here for the whole show!) and after maybe two minutes, he came out and asked "where's the baby Tylenol?" and I thought, "DANG IT! Of course! Poor baby's in pain." Bad mommy strikes again. Or at least short-term memory mommy, who forgot that we had this same reaction at 2 months and only avoided it at 4 months because of a preemptive dose of meds. SOOO, we gave him the medicine, he calmed down very slowly, and I managed to put him in bed without touching his left thigh, which was apparently pretty painful since he winced when I just brushed it, even in the midst of relatively deep (read completely exhausted from SCREAMING for a half hour) sleep. In the middle of the night, I heard him sobbing softly in his sleep (a more pitiful sound does not exist), so I went in to give him a booster dose of baby T and a bottle, which he managed to take without waking up for more than a few seconds, so we averted another screaming jag, and he got to finish the night in (hopefully) less pain.
I know I've mentioned that I hate shots, but let me just reiterate that point. These ordeals will be the death of me! Fortunately, the next round isn't until he's a year old, far enough away that he'll forget all about today...and just at the time he'll be able to remember that round for a good, long time. Ooooh, can't wait!!