Poor, poor pitiful me

Poor, poor Noah. I've never felt so bad for him as I did today. We went for his 4 year old well check with Dr. Lee at Pamlico Pediatrics. We love her but we didn't love what she had in store for us. She wanted to go ahead and do Noah's Kindergarten shots while we were there. This blind-sighted me and freaked Noah out. I had not prepared either of us for the potential of shots, especially not FOUR! She even wanted to take blood.

Noah started crying and screaming with the finger prick. Then the word shot put him over his limit. I had to hold his arms across his chest, push my whole body against his legs and pray very hard. It was like trying to control a bucking bull. His whole body was writhing while he screamed at the top of his lungs "But I don't want a shot!!" Tears were streaming down his face. Both our shirts were wet and he had the snubs for 15 minutes after we left. I was exhausted. When we got home, Noah insisted that his shirt come off. I think he just wanted to look at his Spiderman bandaids.

It was awful, just plain awful.