Yesterday I took Brendan to get his flu shot. This was a last minute plan because when I called the pediatrician they said they couldn't get us in until October 15. Fortunately, my mention of delivering our second child on the 13th caused the scheduler to offer a spot for that afternoon. So, I called Brendan and told him I was going to pick him up early to take him to the doctor to get a shot that will hopefully help him not get sick this winter. His response: "but Mama, I don't like shots". We were able to talk it through and he agreed to go (the conversation involved a treat in the end). You might be wondering why I would tell my 3-year-old son that I am going to take him somewhere to give him a shot. Well, I opted for the other method last year when we went to get his flu shot and didn't say anything until the time came and the look of betrayal on his face that followed the shot was something I didn't care to see again. I decided he was smart enough to understand what was going on.
We get in to the room, the nurse cleans his arm (first arm shot, by the way) and the kid is staring at her every move. I didn't want him to see the huge needle that was about to go in to his arm so opted to pull out the Tootsie Pop I had bought for him and stuck it in his mouth. I am happy to report that Brendan did not so much as shed a tear. He let out a little whimper and then went about his business and gave me a pained smile at the end. What a big boy!!! Here is the picture we took after to send to Daddy (who is working in Texas this week). I guess this is all just part of growing up.
